


Prison Dad I

by AdamantVibranium_SuperBoy



Series: Prison Dad [1]
Category: Prison Dad
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Daddy Kink, Father/Son Incest, M/M, Male Domination, Multi, Prison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24769312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantVibranium_SuperBoy/pseuds/AdamantVibranium_SuperBoy
Summary: This is my rendition of the popular fictionPrison Dad. It's an alternate universe in which the events take place in New Mexico, United States, and Jack is sixteen, tried as an adult. I changed quite a bit but tried to stay true to the original work where I could.Jack Kenton goes to prison and meets a cellmate who tells him to call him 'Dad'. The rest is history.
Relationships: Jack Kenton/Harry, Jack Kenton/Phil, Sike/Jack Kenton
Series: Prison Dad [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780966
Kudos: 15





	1. Fresh Meat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack Kenton arrives at his new home and starts his path down a dark but enticing road.

  


  


"You're in here."

The boy walks through the forbidding doorway. Home. His eyes adjust to the slightly dim light. The door is slammed shut behind him.

The cell is a sparsely furnished space, enough for two staggered beds, a few small items of furniture, a sink and a small barred window letting in a pitiful amount of daylight. He knows with a sinking certainty he is going to go crazy shut up in here twenty hours a day. But then, he knew that before he got caught.

Beside the furthest bed there is a tall, tattooed, bodybuilder skinhead dressed only in boots and jeans doing push-ups. As the boy watches, the man begins to do them one armed. His working arm bulges, taut. He grunts with each push upwards, switching after ten to repeat with the other arm. Only after a further ten does he stop. He springs up with surprising swiftness for his size and stands, massaging his left arm with his right.

The boy notices the extensive tattoos adorning both arms, the enormous chest fuzzed with hair and a large scar on the man's thick neck. He's muscled and built like a statue of Atlas holding up the globe. The man is staring directly at him with an inscrutable expression. It doesn't seem like outright hostility, but the boy isn't sure how to read it. After a good ten second pause, the man nods at the newcomer.

"About time." He points at the bed nearest the door. "Yours."

"Right."

Jack was the local neighbourhood tough kid who'd got in with the wrong crowd and out of his depth. Not careful enough. Not experienced enough. That was why he was going to be in here for at least the next two years. Maybe more if the D.A.'s appeal goes through. He was tried as an adult to get a shorter sentence but the D.A. wants him to do the full sentence anyways. At sixteen, he doesn't know if he'll survive that long in here. He was stupid for getting caught.

Still, he knows enough to know trouble when he sees it, and this guy looks like trouble. He puts his stuff on the bed and sits down, taking a deep breath. _Take it easy, Jack, you ain't goin nowhere._

The man is back down on the floor now, doing another set. The boy watches him cautiously out of curiosity; not much else to look at after all. The man's measured breathing fills the cell, his broad back beading with sweat. Nine. Ten. Switch. One. Two. Three...

"How old are you, son?"

Jack jerks back to reality. His eyes had become mesmerised by the up down movement of the huge torso. He'd barely acknowledged that the man is now resting on his knees, still on all fours, and is facing him again.

"Sixteen."

"Thought so. My kid's about that age."

The workout resumes. Crunches now. _The man doesn't seem too unfriendly_ , Jack thinks. _Gruff, yeah, but that's hardly a surprise_. Still, something lodged itself in his gut the minute their eyes met and refuses to go away. He can't say what it is. He no longer has any private space, and this unnerves him as much as anything. The man is soon back on his feet. He stretches both arms above his head and breathes out loudly before dropping them again. His sheer physical presence dominates the small cell. An uncomfortable silence follows.

"You work out?" the man finally says.

"Yeah, sometimes," Jack replies.

The man narrows his eyes and stares. "Show me. 30 push ups." He snaps his fingers and points at the floor.

Before he knows it, Jack is on the floor doing as he was told. He hadn't even thought of saying no, such was the fear which had sunk into his bones ever since he'd stepped into this small room. The adrenaline rush is kinda welcome though. He needs to have something to occupy his mind, after all. Having a mate to work out with isn't such a bad idea. It's what guys do. But above all else, he doesn't want to disappoint this man.

He reaches the end of the set and sits up, breathing calmly, determined to show he can hack the pace. His arms ache, but he can do plenty more. He's hot now though. He follows the man's example and takes off his T-shirt, throwing it on the bed.

The man is nodding again.

"Not bad. Again."

Jack gets down and takes his time. The adrenaline is still there, but he has the sense to pace himself. He's fairly fit, though more of an athlete than anything. A good runner. Nowhere to run now though.

The man gets himself a cup of water and stands, contemplating the boy's effort and physique. _Not too tall, pale skin, short spiky dark hair, smooth, lean and defined. Probably straight. Ideal. The Warden kept his promise after all._ He drains the cup. _The kid almost reminds me of my wife with those eyes he's got._

The boy finishes and moves back to sit on his heels, looking up expectantly. _Cute. His face looks young for sixteen, more like fourteen_ , thinks the man.

"Okay, that'll do for now."

Jack slowly stands up and rubs his arms. "I'm Jack, by the way."

The man stares right through him again. 

Silence.

"Don't care for names much," says the man.

The boy fears he's made a big mistake without realizing it. The fear resurfaces.

"Oh. Right. Sure."

Silence.

"The others call me Sike. But you... You can call me Dad."

Now _that_ is fucking weird. But trouble is staring him right in the face, and the guy certainly isn't joking. _Just do what he says, Jack. Just do what he says._

"Right."

Nothing further is said for several hours. The man carries on his workout for a while. Jack lays down on his bed and tries to evaluate his situation. He must have drifted off at some point. The first night draws in.

  


  


  
ЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖ  


  


  


There are several hours of respite outside. Food, echoing banter and fierce unfriendly faces everywhere. A fight brews from nowhere between a white guy and a black guy, broken up by three burly officers. Jack takes it all in: calm, cautious, ready to laugh at the vicious jokes, no emotion, mind on edge, trusting no-one. He gets to play some pool for a short while with some other boys near his age, but before too long he's trudging back to his cell.

His cell-mate isn't there, but follows him in less than twenty seconds later. The man pulls off his T-shirt to reveal his well-exercised tank of a torso once more and flings himself down on his bed. He pulls out a motorbike mag from a pile underneath his bed and begins to read. Jack hadn't brought anything to read, but does have a pack of cards which he shuffles through while sat staring into space. He steals a few glances of his intimidating cell mate. 

Time passes.

"I'll play cards with ya," says the man.

Jack looks over to see him staring right through him again.

"Sure…" - only the slightest pause - "Dad." He almost laughs at how easy it is. All the rules are changed now. 

Another life.

The man cocks his head slightly. "Want something stronger to drink?"

"What, the hard stuff?"

"Got a supplier."

Well, that's a turn up and no mistake. Jack needs a drink more than just about anything. The man produces a bottle of indecipherably labelled vodka from behind his bed and proceeds to pour a large measure into both plastic cups, handing one over.

"Thanks." The boy eagerly takes a swig, savors it, breathes the fumes out and breaks into a broad grin. The man grins back at him.

"Fuck me that's good. I needed that."

"Thought you might."

They play rummy on the one small side table in the room, dragged to Jack's bed along with the only chair. The man sits on the chair, reclined, legs wide. Jack manages okay to start with, but increasingly begins to lose, much to his annoyance. His cup is refilled.

"Ah, what the fucking fuck. I'm usually better than this. You ever done this for a living?"

"Nah. Just my lucky day," says the man.

They continue for some time, not saying much. Jack finally manages to claw back some dignity by winning a few hands. 

Then out of nowhere:

"You wanna know why I've told you to call me 'Dad'?"

The man's looking up at the boy while still hunched over the table, like he's ready to strike. Jack, buzzed up now on the alcohol, nods.

"It's 'cause I'm gonna protect ya. Without that, you'll get your pretty little face rearranged within the next week or so, I can guarantee it. Maybe worse. I know this place, been here twelve years. What you got to realize is my word goes. I say no one lays a fucking finger on you, that's how it is. Simple. They know better than to fuck with Sike."

The man reclines on his chair, cards still in one hand and thumb of the other hand hooked in his jeans pocket. 

He stares. 

Jack doesn't know how to respond. Sounds good. So that means there has to be a catch.

"But I ain't doin it for fuckin free, son. You're gonna give me something back for that protection."

Of course.

"Sure, but... I ain't got no money."

"Ain't talkin bout money."

Silence. 

Distant shouting from somewhere else in the building.

"So what then?"

"Right. One, you're gonna help with my business activities. Shit needs to get passed around, know what I mean? I'll cut you in some. Two, you're gonna work out with me and massage me if I'm feeling tight. My shoulders are kinda bad right now. Three, you're gonna suck my dick at least once a day, maybe more if I'm feelin horny."

This is all said in such a matter fact way, that Jack can barely believe that last bit. _He didn't just say that, did he? Did he?!_ He stumbles over his reply, feeling sure he's blushing.

"The first two are fine, Dad... Er... Business. Yeah. You just tell me what I need to do and I'll do it. Whatever you want. Be cool to work out with you too and all that stuff. But... But I ain't gay, y'know. I don't suck dick. I don't…"

Another uncomfortable silence. 

The man stares impassively at him and puts down his cards. He empties his cup of vodka in one sharp swallow and slams the cup down on the table. He proceeds to pour out another measure, still saying nothing.

"I don't look gay, do I?" Jack's almost pleading now. He knows he's on a slippery slope here. Down. Down. The man suddenly breaks into a short knowing laugh under his breath and gives a lopsided smile.

"Course you don't, kiddo. Listen, you ain't, I ain't. Don't mean shit in here. Twelve years locked up has taught me to take it where I can get it. So... I'm gonna teach you how everything works, and keep you safe, and you're gonna, well, help me out. Simple."

Silence again. 

Jack stares as if he still doesn't understand. The man puts his cards on the table and quickly leans forward to roughly grab the boy's chin in one meaty hand. He brings his own face up close, snarling and fierce.

"It's a fuckin generous offer, son, believe me. You don't want to get on the losing side in this place. Ain't a gay thing, it's a power thing. I'm gonna own you, okay?"

He lets go and sits back in his chair. Jack rubs his jaw and looks at him. He knows there's no way out of this one. Fight the guy? Ha, what a joke. They'd be scraping him off the walls. The thug had him over a barrel alright. Why had they put him in here with him?

"Deal?"

Sucking a man's dick... No, Sucking his _DAD'S_ dick. Fuck, this was twisted. He'd beaten up a gay boy once at school and laughed about it with his friends for weeks. Now look where he is. Adrenaline rush and cornered. He couldn't speak.

"Deal?!"

The man lightly thumbs the head of his dick through his jeans pocket. He has him. He can tell by the boy's body language that he was going to give in without too much of a fight. Sweet. His dick had been kept waiting long enough

Jack looks again at the menacing figure barely a yard or two away and can't hold the sheer force of the man's stare. He looks down. 

Trouble isn't the half of it. He can feel his heart pounding. _This is a test_ , he thinks. _That's all. A test. Different rules._ He'd have to get through it somehow. The words fell out of him.

"Okay, Dad. Whatever you want...."

He looks back up to see a grin and a glint in the man's eyes.

"That's my boy." He picks up his cards again, keeping his eyes fixed on the boy. "Your turn."

Jack returns to the game, barely able to concentrate. He can see the man's wide open legs. He imagines himself crouched down with stiff meat pushing past his lips... Sucking on it... His head swims with the expectation and he loses another hand. He swigs more vodka. 

They play on for a while. October already but the room is oppressively hot, the New Mexico heat not giving up it's hold. He removes his T-shirt. The man watches him intently, lust hanging in the air between.

"Wanna see some porn?"

The man isn't totally heartless. He knows the kid will cope better first time if he's already turned on as well as tipsy. As for next time... Well, tomorrow's another day.

"Yeah, whatcha got?"

The man walks over to his bed and out comes a well thumbed magazine from the pile under it. He tosses it over. Jack catches the offering, puts his cards down and sits further back on the bed, resting his upper back against the wall. He opens at random, finding a sexy young blonde spread-eagled with her fingers in her pussy and licking her lips. _Fuck._ He feels his dick stir immediately into action. He turns the page to another picture of her on all fours displaying her pert behind. His hand moves to gently rub his dick through his jeans and his mouth falls slightly open. 

He turns to yet another page. 

This time, with eyes to camera, it's a close up of her face, mouth clasped around some guy's veiny dick. He rubbed himself harder and lightly moaned.

The man watches him, still gently caressing his meat through the pocket lining. He's seriously enjoying the build up.

"Show me that," he orders. 

Jack shows him the picture. "Oh yeah, that one. That's one of my favourites. Real nice."

Jack focuses hard on the picture again, the pretty face being violated. Either she was fairly petite or that was one monster dick she was taking.

All the tension that had been building since he'd arrived is being slowly relieved by his arousal. _Look at it, Jack. Drink that beauty in. She's getting what she deserved, and she loves it._

The horny youngster feels the porn and alcohol pushing insistently at his inhibitions. He knows where this is all leading and isn't gonna pretend otherwise. He just has to let himself go with the flow. No point fighting.

"Reeeeal nice…" says the man.

The man's voice is leading him on. The more Jack stares at the magazine, the more it seems like the fantasy there on the page is teasing him, daring him to try it. _How hard can it be? If she can do it, I can do it. Simple. Mouth on dick. Nothing complicated. No one else is ever gonna know._ His dick's hard now, and he wants to start jerking it. Horny and sixteen, it all comes easily enough.

"Sure is hot, Dad. Big fuckin dick she's suckin too."

"Yeahhh. Nearly as fucking big as yer old man's."

The man is well turned on now and can feel his meat firming up nicely in his jeans. He eyes the boy's desire-flushed face, the slightly open mouth, the glazed eyes, the barest hint of a few days gone without shaving on otherwise smooth skin. _Those soft lips are gonna feel reeeeal nice._ The boy looks at him in genuine surprise.

"Seriously? You're bigger than that? No waaaay."

Jitters sweep through Jack's stomach. Is this going to be more than he can handle? Only one way to find out. He's warming to his role now. To the inevitable.

"You bet I am, son. Want me to prove it?"

The boy looks warily at the topless tough guy and the studied undercurrent of violence lurking in his expression. The shaved head, broad shoulders, massive biceps, tattoos, well-rounded pecs, widespread chest fuzz tapering down... A proper straight man, no messin. You wouldn't pick a fight with him on a Friday night unless you were crazy. Twice his age at least. Certainly old enough to be his dad for real. His hand presses again at his dick through his jeans. Maybe he did want it.

"Yeah. Prove it to me, Dad."

The muscle man lazily unzips himself, staring hard at the boy as he does. Jack, scared and excited at what's happening, can only look on disbelievingly as the fearsome shaft is revealed from within the scruffy jeans. It's a powerful weapon alright: a thick, straight cylinder of veiny muscle from top to bottom – more than ten inches long, maybe twelve –at least as big as any Jack had seen before in porn clips. A rough, scarred hand aims it toward him, lightly stroking it as it neared full hardness.

"What do ya think of that then, son? Is yer old man a stud or what?"

"Fuck me. You weren't kiddin' were you? That's massive."

Jack stares at the monster cock, still absent-mindedly pressing his own dick through his jeans. He's truly taken aback by the size, though it's admittedly in proportion to the big guy who owns it. He glances again at the magazine and the woman excitedly sucking the huge dick there. His turn now. Fuckin hell. Feverish anticipation sweeps through him. He's powerless to resist the beast awaiting him. He rubs his jeans some more. 

_Different rules. Better learn quick, Jack._

"You wanna take a closer look?"

"Can I, Dad?"

He's trying to play innocent, thinking this is what the man wants. 

He's right.

"Course you can, son. On yer knees."

The man moves his chair slightly away from the table. He's ready for action now, but he wants to draw the moment out. He's enjoying seeing the kid get into the roleplay.

Jack puts the magazine aside and does as he's told. He slides off the bed onto the floor, strange contradictory feelings welling up inside as he takes his new position. He knows this isn't right, knows he's no homo. In the outside world he would be screaming bloody murder. 

But here, all choice has been taken away, and he's buzzed by that. A reckless, crazy part of him wants this all to happen, wants to let this brutal man assert authority over him, wants the assault. The alcohol charges through his bloodstream. No doubt about it, he's still fucking turned on.

"Wow. Look at that motherfucker. Bet you've made a few women scream with that thing."

"Too fuckin right I have." The man continues to stroke the fat, long, uncut dick. Jack edges a little closer, mesmerized, heart beating wildly. Is this a dream or a nightmare? He can't tell.

"Can I touch it, dad?"

"Yeahhhh. I'd like that."

The man lets go, and Jack reaches out to grip the thick member. Fuck, the size of it. This is crazy. It's rock hard now and the man groans deeply as the boy slowly begins to slip his hand back and forth. He feels the monster surge beneath his hand.

"Yeahhhh, that's the way. Gettin' yer old man worked up a bit."

The man spits hard into his right hand and brings the spit down to lubricate the shaft under his son's grip. He repeats the action. The young man's hand begins to move more freely over the rigid tool.

"It's so fuckin' big, Dad. So fuckin' big…" The awe in Jack's voice is unmistakeable. "Does that feel good?''

"Mmm-hmmm. You just keep doin' that, kid. Yer dad likes that." 

A pause. 

"There's something he'd like even more though…"

Jack edges forward again ever so slightly. The thick meat is now a few inches from his face: head flared, fully hard, ready for action. _Here we fuckin' go…_

"Look at me."

Jack lets his hand drop as the man's rough right hand firmly tilts his chin upwards and their eyes meet. Hefty jaw, shaved head, thick, scarred neck. The man gazes down at the erotic scene with mounting excitement. _I'm gonna fuckin' give it to him so good._ The left hand takes Jack's head and gently but firmly brings it forwards until the lad feels warm moist flesh pressing lightly against his lips.

"You know what yer dad really wants, don'tcha?"

Jack nods.

"Yeahhhhhh. I'm gonna feed it to yer, son. You're gonna swallow your dad's tasty fuckin load. How about that?"

The boy's heart beats faster still. His dad's a mean fucker, alright. Time to submit.

"Oh yeah. Please, Dad."

He lets his mouth hang slightly open and with his eyes locked upwards on the man's face, feels himself being pushed onto the smooth shiny head. _Fuck._ He instinctively tongues all around to moisten it – he somehow knows that's the right thing to do – and tastes the sticky juice leaking from it. The strange sweet and salty flavour of pre-come assails his senses. The man above him groans deeply and Jack's mind spirals wildly into unknown territory. _I'm actually sucking a man's dick. Fuck. It's in my mouth!_

"Awwww, fuck. Now you're talkin, son! This is gonna be so fuckin good."

The man lets his conquest take a moment to adjust. He swigs more vodka. The sight of his hard mature meat penetrating the kneeling boy's face has been well worth waiting for. The kid's straight alright; wide-eyed and innocent, just like that girl. He lets out a loud animalistic grunt which reverberates right down into Jack's head. He was the man here, and he was in control.

The boy now looks straight ahead as he begins to move backward and forward on it of his own accord, urgently trying to make it slick with his saliva. His mouth is stretched wide and tight over the glistening skin. He sucks like his life depends on it. Maybe it does. He looks back up to its owner to check that he's doing it right; he doesn't want to make any mistakes.

The erotic porn image is still there in Jack's head: straight man dick sliding into willing female mouth. But now it's his mouth and the image can't match the power of the reality. The taste, the smell, the strange intensity of what he's doing was sending him down a dark road he'd never dreamed of travelling before. He's far from safety, being sexually taken by a well-hardened straight man in prison; he feels weak and vulnerable, his neighbourhood terrorizing, a distant memory. The pressure on the back of his head now forced the meat deeper still and the man began to speak his thoughts aloud.

"Mmmmm. Yeahhh. You're doin just fine, son... You like that? You like yer dad's big dick?"

Jack moans, overwhelmed. He's getting into a steady rhythm now.

"You know what, son? You may be straight, but your mouth is a perfect fit. A perfect fucking fit. Think we might be made for each other, know what I'm sayin? Think your mouth was just made to suck my fuckin' dick. What d'ya reckon?"

This thought goes round and round in Jack's head, feeding his horny confusion. _Maybe this is fate. Maybe that's why I'm really here._ He looks up at the reclined figure again; sees the wide, fuzzy chest, the powerful arm stretched out to hold his head in place; sees his life in the cell stretching out before him, month after month after month. He's getting what he deserved. He nods.

"We're gonna do this every day from now on, son. Every fuckin' day. Maybe morning and night if you're good."

The boy nods again, senses overpowered by the domination of strong male sex. _Every day? Twice a day?! Fuck. I'd better get used to it._

"Just think, all this time yer father's meat's been here waiting for you... And you never knew. Well, I always knew this day would come. Yeah, I knew. You better believe it now. I'm gonna look after you, son. You keep doin this every day, Daddy's gonna look after you. Fuck yeah." 

Jack moans again. That deep voice has him hooked now, it's reeling him in. What started as roleplay is becoming slowly more real. His dad is gonna protect him. That's what he really wants. 

"Suck that dick. That's the way. Yeah. Suck it. You're a fuckin natural, son. You love it. Think you can take it all?" 

The man sits up on the edge of the chair and gradually pushes his full length in, pulling the boy's head down. Jack instinctively opens his throat so as not to gag, his nose nestling into the zip fly and the wiry hairs sticking out. He's trapped there and can barely breathe. The huge shaft has taken over his mouth completely, searching it's way down into his unprotected throat. A deep grunt of pleasure comes from above as he's held there a while. He breathes in the ripe smell of the man's unwashed crotch and the hidden nutsack within. 

"Yeahhhhhhh, that's right. All the fuckin' way, son." The man is impressed that the boy hasn't gagged. _Raw talent. This is obviously meant to be._

The slick action resumes, young lips smoothly sliding up and down. The thick tool bulges with obscene vitality. Out. In. Out. In. Jack's tongue flicks over it again and again. More manly, salty sweetness to puzzle his taste buds; he'd never tasted his own, after all (that would have been so gay). The more he got of it, the more he wanted. He rested one hand on the man's muscular right leg and with the other fumbles open his own zip to reach within. His dick aches for release. 

"Fuckin hell, you are enjoying that aren'tcha? Think you must've always wanted to suck yer dad's dick, huh? You just never knew it. How about that?" 

Another nod from below. Jack hasn't seen his real father since he was four, and there hadn't been any decent substitutes along the way. The significance of that in relation to what he was now doing suddenly connected in his young horny mind like an electric shock. His dick surged in recognition. Years and years of hoping his dad would come back. "Maybe one day," she'd always said, "Maybe one day." And now he's here. He needs his dad so much. He's gonna do whatever it takes to make him happy. He'll be a good boy. 

The man stands up to take the final lap, knees slightly bent, his mighty shaft now beginning to pummel the young man's face without mercy. Eager lips, stretched wide, clamp tight around it, urging the climax ever nearer. The boy moans and squeezes both his dick and the man's heavily muscled thigh. This was extreme. His face was gonna get pulverized. 

"Yeahhh. Take that motherfucker. Yeahhhhhh. So damn good. You wanna taste yer dad's cum, don'tcha? You wanna drink it all up?" 

Jack moans once more and nods vigorously as his dad's thick meat is driven relentlessly into his face again and again. This was where it's all leading: to that sticky white seed, his first ever mouthful of thick creamy juice from his dad. Nothing else in the world matters now. He's taking it good and proper, lips nigh on numb, jaw aching. The older man licks his lips in anticipation and puts his other hand behind the boy's head as he begins the final assault. Waves of pleasure. Closing in. 

"Well, don't you worry, kiddo, it's comin. Yeah, it's comin. Daddy's gonna feed it to yer reeeeal soon." 

The man gazes down with visceral pleasure as his massive dick violently rams the boy's tender mouth. What an amazing fuckin' fuck. One of the best ever. Maybe the best ever. A dad fucking his son's face. Showing him who was in charge, showing him how he had come to be. The power of the idea possesses him completely: he'd thought about it for years but the time had never been right. Now it is. 

"Fuck yeaaahhh. Almost there, son. You ready for yer dad's load? ? It's comin atcha…" 

The lad gazes in drunken amazement at the straight veiny piston slamming into him. The moment of truth. He grips harder with his pretty lips. He sees the rough hairy stomach above the well worn jeans, the hairs poking through the gaping zipper, the tough guy's rigid weapon ready to shoot... 

_Dirty._

_Brutal._

_Masculine._

The thought of his dad's spunk being force-fed to him is turning him on so much now that he's nearly ready to come himself. He rubs his aching dick inside his trousers with quiet fury. He's gonna be doin' this every fuckin day. Unreal. 

The man knows he was right on the edge. He's all animal now, wild with lust, breathing heavily, speed increasing. His rock hard meat surges. 

"Oh yeahhh. Oh yeahhhh. It's comin now. Gonna shoot it in yer." 

Jack moans and squeezes the meat in his boxers with frantic excitement. 

"FUUUUUCK. I'm comin, son. I'm comin." 

The man feels his balls tighten and the juice begin to flow. 

_Perfection._

His eyes close and he gives a loud guttural grunt. He grips the boy's head tighter still, wanting to catch every last ounce of sensation. 

"Uuurrrggghhhhhhh…" 

And fire. 

The man's deep groan surrounds and possesses the boy. Jack gazes in horny desperation as the hard snake of thrusting muscled desire pulses between his lips. _Fuck. So hard and so hot._

This is really it. His dad's rough, scarred hands hold his head firm as the warm, salty sweet fluid shoots out from within. 

_Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Fuck yeeeeaaahhhh._

The first blast goes straight to the back of his throat with force, the rest spurting out over his waiting tongue, thick slimy manjuice gradually filling his young mouth for the first time. Jack can't believe just how much there is. 

_Fuckin amazin'._  
_Fuckin a-ma-zin'._

He savors the taste of his dad's spunk, wanting the moment to last as long as possible. The strong pungent taste sears itself into his memory. His dad's a real man. His dad's a real hard fucker. 

His dad is giving it to him. 

Almost without realizing it, he crosses over the edge himself, moaning in ecstasy as he pumps his load out under the hand still stuck inside his trousers. He involuntarily swallows some of the accumulating gunk swimming around his mouth even as his own is spurting into his boxers. 

_Spunk in, spunk out._

The assault on his mouth subsides. He swallows some more of his dad's seed and feels it coating his throat. 

The man opens his eyes and gazes down at his still pulsing member lodged firmly between his son's smooth lips. The kid had actually taken it all. _Fuck yeah. That was hot._ He carefully sits back down on the chair and reclines as before, releasing the boy's head from his iron grip. Jack continues sucking the remaining juice from its source, wanting to make sure he swallows all of it. A lazy hand strokes the boy's head and the big man breathes out deeply. He nods at the boy. 

"Fuckin hell, son. You did me proud there. That was fucking good." He reaches down to take another swig of vodka from the cup. "Your mouth was just made for my dick. No two ways about it." 

Jack is still engrossed with his task. He knows just where he belongs. This is home now. He carries on gently sucking the engorged head of the temporarily sated monster. Still some jism slowly emerging from the tip; his tongue lapped it up. As he does so, he stares up into the rugged stubbled face above. It's true: this is the perfect fit. It feels so good being there in his mouth. 

The man locks eyes with his newly found boy and continues to stroke the short spiky hair, watching with deep, quiet satisfaction as the eager tongue finishes up its tour of duty. So young and cute. He's gonna fuckin' feed it to him every day. He can imagine taking things another stage before too long, something he'd vowed he never would with any man. But then rules were made to be broken. It seems inevitable somehow. _The porn and alcohol will do the trick,_ he thinks. 

He grins. 

"Got a taste for it now, huh? Well, that's just for starters. Plenty fuckin' more where that came from. You're gonna get it." 

The boy stares with a mixture of awe and submissive respect into the eyes of the tough guy who now owns him, just as he sucks the last few remaining drops of hot cream from the huge dick. The man's satisfied grin is reassuring. Jack knows he only has to do what he's told and life will be good. The thought of being made to service his hard dad over and over again has lit a lustful flame deep within his skull. The snarled words came back to him: it's not a gay thing, it's a power thing... Too fuckin right. He felt his dick tingle in his come-soaked boxers. 

He finally lets go and sits back on his heels, looking at the softening monster in dreamy, drunken contemplation. _No wonder it made women scream - imagine getting fucked by that thing, Jack. Straight male domination._ The man looks at him, somehow sensing that their minds are in sync. 

"It's the real deal, son. Just you and me now." 

Jack feels warm and wanted. He's gonna be taken care of alright; the spunk in his gut is proof of that. He looks up again at the muscular figure. 

"Sure thing, dad. You and me." 

__

  


  


  
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	2. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Jack wakes up to find he's already on duty.

  


  


Jack awakens. 

A bang and a shout in the distance, then silence. _Where the hell am I?_

After a brief moment of confusion he remembers, along with the events of the night before. 

_Prison. Fuck. It was all real._

He's lying on his side in bed facing the grey wall, dick semi-hard from sleep inside his boxers, the fabric slightly crunchy with dried come. He reaches down to stroke himself and tries to make sense of the angry conflict immediately rushing around his head.

He isn't fuckin gay, no way. He just isn't. He can easily call up any number of straight porno clips in his head to fire himself up, and he'd certainly never looked at a guy in a sexual way before, except for when there was a woman there getting boned, obviously... _So why the fuck had I enjoyed being used? Gladly swallowed that mouthful of come?_ It made no fuckin sense. NO fuckin sense at all. _Musta been the vodka. Musta been._ He'd been well out of his head.

He thinks about this place and the way he'd been so cocky about it all beforehand... Remembers laughing with his friend Carl that it'd be like going on a free vacation. _No big deal, mate, no big deal!_ Huh. The reality was very different. The realization had come too late that he couldn't play with the big boys. Now he's stuck. He wondered if Carl, wherever he was, was enduring a similar fate; pictured his best friend struggling as some guy's massive dick forced its way in his mouth. He strokes himself some more to shut out the bad thoughts and feels the warm glow spread out from his crotch.

 _This Sike guy sure is a scary fucker. Not one to cross, deffo. Looks like an ex-cage fighter or something._ A shiver runs through him: he's gonna do whatever it takes to keep in line. Whatever it takes. Can't afford not to or he'll get mashed up real bad. He wonders if he's really gonna have to suck that meat every single day like he'd been promised... _The man is seriously fucking hung_ , he thinks admiringly. _Lucky bastard. Think of all that come, Jack…_ He squeezes his dick again. So wrong, so wrong. But his mouth was dry with anticipation. The dad/son roleplay once again hotwired his young horny mind. _I want to please my dad. I want to…_

There's a sound of movement from the other bed, footsteps and then the sound of pissing in the sink. Jack rolls quietly on to his back and lets his dick go, tilting his head up a fraction to see the tall, naked well-muscled figure standing in shadow at the back of the cell. The man is scratching his fuzzy chest and yawning, casually holding his lengthy member steady over the lip of the sink. There it is. Jack looks back at the ceiling again and shuts his eyes, fearing he would be caught watching. He isn't fuckin gay.

The man slowly finishes and shakes the remaining drops out. He's thinking about last night too. Fuckin ace. The Warden really hit the bullseye. Some kind of gratitude will have to be shown so he'd better make sure the next deal was extra sweet. He turns to look at the sleeping lad. Time for some more fun.

"Wakey wakey, son. Time for breakfast."

The man moves in the middle of the cell and stands, arms folded, watching. He's gonna stamp his authority properly; no slow build up this time. Jack fakes waking up and makes eye contact, forcing a grin.

"Morning, Dad."

The man doesn't smile. He looks like he's pretty angry about something, and his bulky tattooed biceps seem to Jack even more threatening and fearsome with arms folded. The man's eyes narrow.

"I'll count to ten, son, and if you ain't got your mouth on my dick by then I'm gonna come over there and make you fuckin' choke on it. Got that? One. Two."

Jack stares incomprehendingly, a deer in the headlights. _What? Right now?_

"Three. Four."

With a sudden rush of adrenaline to jolt him out of his usual morning laziness, the boy pushes his cover away and half falls out of bed in the rush to get up, scuffing a knee in the process. His vision swims as he steadies himself on the floor and tries to shake the sleep out of his head. The man eyes the smooth, lean youngster exposed on all fours and licked his lips. 

_Nice._

"Five."

Without standing up, Jack crawls over to where the man is standing, his eyes fixed on the goal.

"Six. Seven."

This is the first time he's seen his dad completely naked, head on: the wide, muscular legs planted firm; a dark fuzz of wiry pubic hair framing the man's dangling meaty snake, head concealed by foreskin in its near-soft state; the large nutsack lurking behind. The sight scares and thrills him. 

_Admit it Jack, this is what you wanted. Now here it is: ya daddy's fat juicy dick._

_Fuck._

He felt weirdly lightheaded.

"Eight."

The man watches him, outwardly impassive, but enjoying the moment immensely. His young, straight cell-mate's face is fixed on his tackle like some kinda crazed puppy. He has him alright. He's gonna feed it to him night and day.

"Nine."

No time to think, the boy leans forward and takes the entire thing into his mouth, nestling his face deep into the wiry fuzz. He breathes in the heady scent of that unwashed crotch once more: the smell of his mean and muscly dad. There's the faint, sharp taste of something as the monster dick slid over his tongue - piss? An involuntary shudder at the thought. The thick cylinder lays heavy, easily reaching the back of his mouth even soft. He sucks gently to moisten it up and the beast stirs. 

_Unreal._

_Was this really what you wanted Jack?_

_No._

_You sure about that?_

The man runs his fingers through the short, dark hair and holds the back of the boy's head firmly in place. So good. He loved being in control.

"That's the way. A bit slow gettin there, but you're learnin. Don't keep me waitin next time."

The confused boy tries to look up the solid, hairy torso, past the bulge of the man's pecs. The man relaxes his grip very slightly and their eyes locked. Jack feels so small by comparison. The veiny snake is swelling, stretching his inexperienced mouth wider and pushing the emerging head deeper. Jack feels it grow and tries to relax his throat to accommodate. Last night it had seemed easier to take with the buzz of alcohol and porn gradually working their magic. Going full on so quickly now is proving more difficult. He should have been quicker out of bed to service his dad, he realizes with remorse. He'll get whatever he deserves. 

The man nodded at him.

"You just hold it there and make it nice n wet, son. Feel yer dad gettin' it hard for yer. Mmmm... This is gonna be fuckin good, I promise."

The man looks down at the soft lips encircling his mature meat right at the base, at the boy's sexy, smooth skin. What a fuckin horny sight. He's almost forgotten what it was like being with a girl, though the porn kept reminding him, but this is surely as good as it's ever gonna get in here... Man, this was FUCKIN GOOD! Dominating a cute straight boy comes easily to him: same rules as the other, just rougher. The kid's certainly tough enough to take it; wouldn't be much fun if he wasn't. He thinks briefly of his own son who he'd not seen for well over eleven years. What the hell would he look like now? Something like this, maybe?

His aroused manhood presses deeper and wider still. Jack gags for a moment but manages to bring the reflex under control, focusing attention back down to the man's crotch, trying for an easier angle. The man very slowly begins to hump his son's face with steady, unforgiving force. The boy grips his dad's firm, hairy legs for reassurance as he seeks to keep the gag reflex at bay.

"Yeahhhh. You fuckin take that nice 'n deep, son. Nice 'n deep. This is what it's all about. When yer old man wants something, he gets it, know what I'm sayin?"

Jack moans and nods eagerly as he watches the thick shaft being plunged repeatedly in. His well-hard dad is giving it to him all over again, just like he'd said he would. It's really fuckin happening. That thick meaty weapon slamming into his mouth; the grim reality of prison. He felt utterly powerless. Desperate. Horny. A door slams in the distance somewhere.

"Feelin real good, kiddo. Reeeeeal good. My dick was just made to fuck your mouth. You want another load of yer dad's tasty cum, don'tcha?"

Another moan and nod from below. Jack's own dick stiffens some more in his crunchy boxers. He feels dirty and alive. His jaw aches already. The man is working up the speed now, fucking his son's face with serious intent. The boy keeps his lips tightly encircled around the fleshy torpedo, willing the maximum pleasure for his mean dad, wanting the creamy juice to blast out and fill his throat as soon as possible.

"Fuckin take it, son. You know you want it. You fuckin take it." The man nearly spits the words out.

Jack begins to struggle under the increasingly aggressive onslaught, every inch of the monster dick now ramming his throat mercilessly. His tough-nut dad is fucking his face like an animal. 

_This is really happening. Gotta take it... Somehow…_

A rough restraining hand keeps his head locked in place. 

_No escape, Jack. Was this really what you wanted?_

He gripped the hairy legs even harder thinking he might pass out. 

_Please dad, please…_

Unexpectedly, the man stops his assault and moves slightly back to remove his erect manhood. It glistens with saliva in the dim morning light, fully aroused and dangerous. Jack, dumbstruck, stares in exhausted amazement at his dad's slick meat. 

_So fuckin intense._

Hands free once more, he absent-mindedly rubs himself through his boxers, his dick jerking in satisfaction at the attention. 

_Yeah, that feels good._

He looks up at the shaven headed muscle man towering over him, sees the menacing expression on the rough stubbled face, the thick scarred neck, the brute strength in those tattooed arms, the huge breadth of the man's firm, hairy chest... Sheer rock-hard masculinity. 

_Submit, Jack, submit._

"Lick it, son. All of it."

Jack, still looking up at his dad, starts to do as he's told, dragging his tongue all around the shiny, engorged head. The man nods approvingly at what seems to be a pleading expression on the boy's face for affirmation that he's doing it right. The mighty shaft jerks as his tongue reaches the sensitive underside, a wordless rumble of pleasure emanating from above. The boy works his way down one side in a frenzy, under and back up the other. The size of the fucking thing. His dad was a real man.

"Mmmm... You like the taste of yer dad's meat, don'tcha?"

Jack pauses, a trail of saliva hanging from his open mouth on to the rigid tool. "Fuckin amazin'," he mutters. He resumes his task from hairy base to shiny head, reaching up to steady it with his hand as his tongue and lips did their duty.

The man stares with intense satisfaction. He can see the boy is loving it now, worshipping his dad's hard meat as only a son can. He clenches his fists and admires his own well-worked out body. Yeah. He was the fuckin' man. The boy looks up, awaiting further instruction.

"Suck my nuts…"

Eagerly obeying, the boy grips the solid tree-trunk legs once more and thrusts his face to the underside of the man's crotch. The heady masculine scent again fills his nostrils, his tongue now working overtime on the hairy sacks. He catches the groove between balls and thigh and there's a grunt of pleasure from above. He repeates the action, eager to please his dad, pushing his tongue deeper still into the sweaty gap, and going for the other side likewise. His smooth face is soon covered with crotch sweat and his own saliva.

"Yeahhhhh, that's the way, son. That's the fuckin' way."

The man begins to jerk his dick as the boy continues to tongue and suck all around his balls. Jack imagines the spunk there ready so close to his tongue. He laps away urgently, his entire field of vision filled with male sex. The animal heat engulfed his face.

"Fuck yeahhhh. You do that just right. Gettin me hot now, kiddo."

The man continues to pleasure himself as the teenager nuzzles into his nuts. 

_The kid really is into it. Too into it, perhaps... Maybe he isn't straight after all? Hmmm. That won't do._

Gazing down through an angry red mist of dominating lust, he roughly pushed Jack's head away from nut duty and back to the head of his fearsome fuck muscle, released once more from his iron grip to target the boy's face.

"You want some more, Son? You fuckin want some more?"

"Yeah. Please Dad." The boy is transfixed by his dad's mighty tool, imagining the damage it was gonna do to him.

"Fuckin tell me then. What do you want?"

Jack paused. It was one thing going with the flow and letting his dad tell him what to do, it was another thing entirely to admit out loud that he wanted it. He just wanted to please his dad. He mumbled, embarrassed.

"Wanna suck yer dick, Dad."

"Speak up, Son."

"Wanna suck your fat, juicy dick, Dad."

"Uh-huh. And?"

"Wanna taste yer cum again."

The boy looks as confused as he feels. He doesn't really want those things. Or does he? His whole sense of identity is being crushed. He just wants his dad.

The man senses the teenager's discomfort and belatedly remembers the hungry glow in the teenager's eyes when he'd been handed the porn mag, the immediate boner in the boy's boxers at the sight of some tits and pussy. Hmmmm. Okay. So he was straight. Just VERY keen to please. That was fair enough. All the same, he fancied some sport...

"Sure you're not a homo, Son?"

Startled, the boy looks up. Another wave of shame runs through him. He has to deny it - it's not true.

"I ain't fuckin gay, Dad. No way."

"So why'dya want it then, huh? HUH?!" The threat in the voice is unmistakable.

Jack's mouth goes completely dry, and fear grips him. This doesn't make any sense. He'd been forced into it. It wasn't his fault. His dick softens in terror, and the vulnerability of his position makes his stomach lurch.

"I - I don't…"

"You wanna suck my motherfuckin' dick, don't you? You just said so. Don't fuckin lie to me, Son."

Jack looks back at the monster tool hanging there in front of face, taunting him. He has to admit defeat; he wants it in his mouth again. He nodded slowly and mumbled .

"Sorry dad. Tastes good." 

_Fuckin homo._

He waits for a kick or a punch. But the man has other ideas.

"Right. Maybe you want more than that then, huh?" A pause. Jack freezes. "You know what I think, Son?" Another pause. "I think you wanna get fucked by yer old man. I think you wanna take it like that hot bitch in the magazine."

The boy's heart races, fear and desire merging so that he no longer knew which was which. 

_Get fucked by your dad?_

_Yeahhhhh…_

His imagination runs wild and hot for a moment over forbidden territory. 

_Really doin it, Jack... Getting forcefucked by your tough-nut dad... Real dirty, like._

"You wanna go all the way with me?"

The man's question hangs in the air unanswered. Jack stares at the enormous veiny weapon in front of his face. Imagines it sliding in... Deep... The muscular arms pinning him down... Total submission. His dad boning him like he was a sexy hot bitch. 

_Fuck. Fuck._

Adrenaline courses through his veins, and his dick stands to attention once more. The sheer brutal possibility of it overwhelms him. Going all the way with his dad...

"If you fuckin want it you'll fuckin get it, son. DO YOU FUCKIN WANT SOME?" The man's snarled words hits the boy full on.

_What the hell are you thinking, Jack?_

_Crazy shit._

_You can't take that thing - you'll be ripped apart._

_But... But... It'd be amazin', wouldn't it? Wouldn't it?_

The boy desperately wants to admit his dark curiosity, to let his dad do him, but the fear proves too strong. He looks up in trepidation.

"Just want to do what I'm told, Dad. I'll... I'll do what you tell me."

The man stares, then relents. The teenager looks so lost and cute all of a sudden, even his loveless heart can't resist. 

_Give him a break Sike, he's only been here a day. The fuck can fuckin' wait. Plenty of opportunity ahead. Porn and booze to break down the barriers... You'll have him beggin' for it in a few weeks._

He grins at the boy.

"I know that, Son - just playin with ya. You keep on doin' what you're told. Your dad'll look after yer. Ain't a gay thing, like I said."

He ruffles the boy's hair. Jack visibly relaxes and breathes a sigh of relief. 

_Thank fuck for that! My dad believes me after all!_

The man moves over to his bed and sits on the edge, upper body reclined to rest on his elbows, legs splayed. Easy and confident. He gestures at the boy and points at the floor in front of him.

"Over here. We ain't done yet."

Jack pads over on all fours, settling between his dad's hairy legs with renewed excitement. He was gonna get fed now, he felt sure of it. _Yeahhhh. My dad is really gonna give it to me! Am I gonna get my face pounded again?_ he wonders… _I'm not sure how much of that I can take in one session_. He eyes up the show of raw strength there before him: such a hard fucker. His heart beats faster, and he waits for instruction.

"You done good so far, kid. Time for your reward…" The man gives him a cocky half-grin and a small unfriendly chuckle, pointing his hard meat outwards. The young boy strokes his own straight, stiff meat through the damp fabric of his boxers and bites his lip with anticipation. 

_There it is, Jack. Yer dad's fat juicy dick. You want it now, don'tcha?_

"Come on, suck it, Son!"

Jack watches the man's expression as he slides the shiny head between his lips once more. Fuck. This is the real deal. He sucks eagerly, making the action smooth, slick and rhythmic. The look of satisfaction on his dad's face sends a thrill up and down his spine. He was doin' it right.

"Uggghhhh. Now you're doin' it, boy. Now you're really doin it."

A trail of precum tantalizes his tongue. Fuckin hell - he's tasting it now. The dirty animalistic ritual has him by the scruff of the neck again. He wants more. He reaches out to gently caress the man's large nutsack: all that come, right there. His other hand stroked his own meat. His balls ached.

"Yeahhhhhhhh. You're suckin your dad's dick, Son. How about that? Gonna load you up real soon."

Extreme pleasure flows up the man's body from his groin. Last night was clearly no fluke: this kid really knows how to work his cock. He'll be shooting his load in no time. He keeps eye contact, nodding his approval now and again, slightly thrusting his crotch in time with his son's rhythm as the good sensations continue to spread. What a turn on. Look at him. Straight, sixteen-going-on-fifteen, bright-eyed and innocent, taking his dad's thick meat and learning to enjoy it. Fuck yeah. He resumed his aggressive sexy talk.

"Yeah, you keep that up, Son. Suck that big motherfucker. Do your dad proud."

The words swirl around the boy's head and take root as the man's demanding gaze bores forcefully into his. _You're suckin your dad's dick, Son. You're suckin your dad's dick._

Jack feels lightheaded. He really is suckin'it. He really fuckin' is...

"Oh yeah, you're a fuckin natural, kid. Suckin yer dad's juicy prick like a bitch. You're gonna get it every day. Yeaahhhh."

Jack moans gently. Every day. He'd almost forgotten that promise. He thought about how many hours he was gonna spend here in this cell with this hard-nut's massive tool in his mouth. All the hot come he was gonna be made to swallow - for weeks, months... Like a bitch... Yeahhhh. Total male domination. _You know you can't fight your dad, Jack, so this is how it's gonna be. This is your life now._

"That's the way, son. Suck it reeeeeal good. Daddy's gonna feed it to yer. You're gonna fuckin get it."

The boy's excitement continues to build. So close now. He lets the man's nuts and his own dick go free, and his hands are wandering up over the chunky torso, reaching up toward the well rounded pecs and the hardened nipples. His dad grunted approvingly as the lad's smooth arms rubbed over his rough skin. Sweet. The thrusts became more insistent. He was gonna unload any moment.

"Ughhh, it's comin, Son. Gonna fuckin' shoot my load. Ya ready?"

The man sees his son nod at him, the pleading eyes, the innocent young mouth forced wide open, his cute face takin' it. _Fuckin' takin' it. Yeahhh. Here it comes, kid._ He shifts his weight slightly and reaches forward with one hand to jerk his primed weapon straight down into those soft lips. He wants to see his boy fuckin' drinkin' it – drinkin' his dad's fresh spunk. His breathing quickens.

Jack keeps well low so that he can keep looking up at the man's face. He works vigorously at the shiny head, one hand now gripping a huge, muscled leg, the other back on his own aching member. His dad's meaty knuckles work rapidly back and forth, dangerously close to striking him in the face, the mighty forearm taut and vicious. The tattoos blur up his line of sight.

"Yeah. I'm comin, Son. Fuckin comin. YEAHHHHHHH!" The man stares at the boy with fierce determination, drilling his gaze into the back of the boy's skull as his nuts tighten and begin to unload.

"Uuuurrrrgggghhhhhhhhh."

Dizzy with pleasure and anticipation, Jack lets his dad's fierce stare pin him firmly in place. Brute strength filled his mind and vision, the man's deep ecstatic groan his signal to succumb to the inevitable. 

_Here..._

_It..._

_Comes..._

The first blast of fresh come lands on his tongue and the insane reality hits him like a sledgehammer. His lips part slightly in dutiful acquiescence. With a sudden impossible rush, his aching dick begins to release it's waiting juice into his already crusty boxers.

The man watched through narrowed lustful eyes as his creamy load streamed out. 

_Fuck yeahhhhh! Feeding time!! My son is really takin it!!_

The meaty fist slowed, and he twists his hand round so that the thumb is now on top, nudging the boy's head back a touch so that the shiny dickhead spewed more hot jizz on to those soft, young lips. Jack's overpowered senses fill with the taste and smell of the accumulating seed: the essence of his dad being fed to him again. He focused his attention back on the still leaking prick and lapped up the flow at source with his now cum-covered tongue, felt the creamy juice oozing right from the man's piss-hole. _Awesome. Fuckin awesome!_

The man basks in the afterglow of his climax. The boy had done a damned good job there, no mistake. It was mighty fine to be gettin' his dick regularly serviced again like this... It had been so long.

"Think you liked that, dintcha?" Jack nods in a daze, too far gone to even think about arguing.

The proud dad begins moving his dick around his son's lips, smearing the remaining juice all around. The boy gives in and lets it happen, staring up again into the hard man's satisfied face. He let a load of the gunk slip down his throat to lodge deep inside and sat with his mouth still slightly open, dumbstruck.

The man bashes his boy's face with his thick manhood, the last dregs of cum flicking out onto the tender skin. He wanted to make the boy flinch, but Jack accepted the onslaught. He deserves whatever he gets. He swallows the rest of the man's seed: down, down it went. The buzzing taste lingered in his mouth.

Thoroughly despunked, the man lets his dick go and leans back on both elbows again.

"Well, that was fuckin good for me, Son. You're a talented kid, alright. Think your old man might want some more of that later…" He grins knowingly.

Jack nods again in his cum-soaked daze, in no position to refuse; the fire in his mind is now out of control. Couldn't blame the booze this time. He's just a horny straight lad addicted to servicing his dad's meaty dick. No one else has to know about it. No one else will ever fuckin know about it.

"Sure dad. Whenever you want."

"We'll do some training too, like I said. This afternoon. Gotta start beefin' you up a bit if you're gonna survive in this place."

The boy slowly licks the jism from his lips. He wants his dad to teach him stuff. Loads of stuff. He grins back.

"Sounds good to me."

Outside the cell comes the noise of the prison wing coming to life. Slamming doors and barked instructions. Down the corridor, the officer works his round. He fingers his short, thick, firm tool through the lining of his pocket, replaying what he'd just seen and heard. The Warden had told him to keep an eye out for Sike and the new kid, and man, that had been a good show. Maybe something could be arranged…

  


  


  
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	3. Life Out of Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack isn't sure what the screw wants, but he thinks he has an idea.
> 
> His Dad on the other hand... He knows what he wants.

  


  


Friday afternoon, five-on-five football in the concrete yard. Barbed wire topped walls rising high on two sides, the prison buildings on the other two.

A week into his time and this is the first breath of fresh air for Jack since arriving, though he would have jumped at the chance of a proper field. Sure, grass and a larger space would have been better, but this is fuckin prison after all. Be grateful for what you get.

Fast and aggressive in possession, he shows off his skills to his new friends, scoring four times. High fives and curses echo around. He notices one particular officer watching him intently at various points. _So he should_ , Jack thinks, _I'm fucking good_. Vapour trails cross high in the autumn sky; sweat slides down his shirtless back.

His muscles are certainly aching from the first few workouts with Sike. The big guy was using his 'free' time for weightlifting, or something – not a big football fan it would seem ('bunch of overpaid pussies fakin it like girls when anyone touches em...'), but Jack isn't gonna argue the point. No need. He likes it mostly cause he's good at it, and that brings him respect.

The showers are very welcome on such a hot day. Only the third he'd had all week and he fucking needs it. Rough jostling bodies and shouts in the steam, the easy ritualized camaraderie of straight guys.

"...Did ya see the kid move? Shit."

"Yeah. THE shit."

"Couldn't fuckin believe it, my foot was right on it. Right on it, I'm tellin ya."

"Ahh, ya fuckin' poof - did yer mommy teach ya how ta tackle?"

"You can fuckin talk, dude. Left the baby walker behind today, did ya?" Laughter all round. "Coulda done with some help y'know..."

Jack laughs with everyone else, content with his performance and appreciating the grudging admiration of the opposition. He doesn't have to boast – his own team gloats enough on his behalf – just the odd cheeky grin. He feels like he's starting to belong. One of the boys.

And yet... The shameful truth is always lurking at the back of his mind now: he's suckin the meat. His dad had been horny this morning before breakfast and pumped his face full of it. Just another daily dose of tough love on his knees in the claustrophobic cell. He quickly shakes the image away lest he get an untimely hard on, mightily glad that showering with other naked guys hadn't aroused him at all. 

_Good reason for that Jack: you're fuckin straight…_

Still, one of the boys, huh? Yeah. He was. Despite his youthful appearance, he knew he had the right swagger, the mouthy attitude. Years spent on the streets intimidating people with his friends gives him a certain toughness which is regarded as normal here. No one suspects a fuckin thing.

Sike had introduced him to a few people on the second day ("My boy, Jack") and warned him who should be avoided at all costs ("'Cause there are some idiots who just don't care what I'll do to 'em if they fuck with you…"). Proof of his status had arrived soon after, as some bonehead had squared up to him in the cafeteria line on the third day for seemingly no reason whatsoever. He'd asked something without Jack realising he was being spoken to, and got angry when Jack didn't respond.

"You fuckin deaf?"

"You what?" Jack was genuinely puzzled by the interjection, but his mind was immediately on red alert.

"Don't fuckin 'what' me, you cunt. I just asked if ya'd always been a stupid pussy." The man cocked his head to one side, a cold expression on his surly face. He was itching to spoil Jack's smooth handsome features: what he couldn't have, no one else deserved to have. The satisfaction would be worth any reprimand.

Jack felt the adrenaline surge within at this sudden challenge from nowhere alley. He hated losing face, but quickly assessed that the guy was fairly built and likely to get the better of him in a one-on-one fight. He had his new friend Rob with him (a black Brit in his mid 20s) so they could possibly both take him, but he wasn't sure cause he didn't know who the guy was with. The guy looked like some tanked up idiot on a Friday night. Fuckin' retard.

Another man standing next ahead in line turned at this point to see who his comrade was having a go at this time and, seeing who it was, quickly nudged him in the ribs. He spoke urgently and quietly into the man's ear, but loud enough for Jack to hear.

'Naww, man. Bad news. Sike's boy.'

And with those six words the man snarled, visibly disappointed, looking warily around, before turning back to face front again without a further word. Jack, keen to appear nonchalant, turned to Rob, who was staring gobsmacked.

"Dunno what the fuck that was all about…" A lengthy pause.

"So you're the one sharing with Sike then?"

"Yeah, and?" Jack hadn't made a point of drawing attention to it.

"Hadn't realized."

"Is it important?"

A short stab of laughter. "Well mate, you're either seriously lucky or, errr, seriously unlucky."

"Meanin'?"

"Listen, if you're in Sike's good books, you're fuckin sorted. He's da man. No hassle." Rob leaned forward to speak in a hushed voice, despite the din around. "Main dealer, y'know. And a fuckin hard-nut."

Jack nodded as if he didn't know.

"And if I ain't lucky?"

"Don't think about it, mate. You'd know. Life wouldn't be worth livin'. Anyway, that…" he gestured at the bonehead in front, "...tells me you're lucky."

Jack had thought over and over this episode in the days since. Clearly the deal he'd struck was just as promised: fate had somehow landed him in this privileged position. Every day, faced with his dad's mighty dick, the deep connection continued to be forged in his otherwise straight mind. _You're fuckin sorted, Jack. Just gotta keep takin' it like a good boy. Think how fuckin lucky you are…_

They're all piling out of the showers now and getting changed back into dirty jeans, t-shirts and the sneakers they'd used for the game. Jack is being typically slow and is one of the last to pull his T-shirt over his head as most of the others were escorted out. The remaining officers stood watching.

"Ain't got all day, y'know. Come on, move it."

Jack picked up his shorts from where they'd fallen on the floor and found himself face to face with a prison officer, the same one who'd been watching him so intently in the game. A burly bloke, probably in his mid 40s, tight dark gelled hair with flecks of grey, mean squashed looking face, neck as wide as his head. Typical doorman type... All brawn, no brains, no doubt.

"But I want a word with you."

"Yeah?"

"That'll be 'yes sir', to you, Kenton."

Jack looks at him with barely masked disdain. _Stupid cunt. What the fuck does he want?_

The officer waits until the last of the other prisoners leaves, escorted by his colleague who gives a friendly mock salute as he closes the door. They're alone now in the steamy damp changing room. He turns back to the boy. _Handsome little fucker. Would look better squirming on the end of my cock, though._

"Quite the little striker, ain'tcha Kenton?"

"Had some practice... Sir. Quick on my feet, y'know."

"You should definitely be in the prison league. I'll see to it if you like."

"Thanks, sir."

"Now I've been hearing some er... interesting rumors about you Kenton."

 _Now where is this going?_ A bad feeling arises in his gut, but he endeavours to keep his expression completely neutral.

"Such as?"

"You tell me."

Jack's mind raced. Fuck. What does the man know? More importantly, how does he know it?

"I'm not sure what you mean, sir."

The officer pauses. The boy had taken too long to answer... He can almost smell the fear. Hehe. This is fuckin good sport; one of the unwritten perks of the job. He knows he doesn't really have the time to do everything he wants to here and now, but hey, just a bit of fun ahead of some real action. He brings his face close to the boy's.

"I'm sure you know what I fuckin' mean. You do realize it's an offense to lie to a prison officer, don't you, Kenton?"

"Er... Yes sir."

"Good. So tell me. What's the deal with Sike?"

"Sir?"

"Why's he protecting you?"

"I... I still don't know what you're getting at, sir." Jack is staring close range into the man's steely grey eyes, willing himself to sound innocent.

"You fuckin liar, Kenton." Without warning, the officer viciously punches Jack in the stomach. Jack staggers backwards, bending over in pain. The officer watches him impassively for a moment before stepping forward and grabbing the boy's short hair to tilt his head upwards. He forces him to his knees, and pushes his crotch into the young man's pain-contorted face.

"Bet you'd like a bit of this, huh? Fuckin gayboy."

Jack feels the heat and the firm bulge pressing on his face and his mind reels with the sheer insanity of it. _No way is this chunky fucker a homo. No fuckin way._ He resists a sudden urge to bite through the fabric and manages to jerk his head temporarily free of the man's sweaty grip. He looks up at the uniformed figure, drawing ragged breaths.

"No fuckin way, sir. I ain't fuckin gay... That ain't my scene."

The officer sneers at him. "Oh I think it fuckin is, gayboy. I've seen your dirty little mouth at work."

Jack's heart sinks. _Oh no. The fucker knows…_ The shame and guilt washes through him with sickening speed. He desperately tries to salvage some pride.

"He fuckin made me do it. Threatened me with all sorts a shit if I didn't."

"Didn't look like that from where I was standing."

They both glare at each other in deathly silence. The dull stink of accumulated sweat hangs in the air. Jack is suddenly very aware of the sound of his own breathing, feels sure the angry pulse of blood through his veins can be heard by his tormentor. He swallows hard, willing himself not to say or do anything stupid.

"A word of advice: never, never, NEVER lie to an officer again, Kenton, or you'll come to regret it. That clear?"

A slow nod.

"Stand up."

Jack does, the grimace on his face clear to see as his stomach muscles tried to contract.

"Think we might continue this little discussion another day, hmmmm?"

A sullen pause. "Yes sir."

"Out." The officer gestures to the door and troops after the boy. His short, fat, hard tool is eager for action, but he knew better than to risk it here and now. The others would be here any minute.

When Jack gets back to the cell, Sike isn't there. He sits carefully down on his bed and rubs his aching stomach, angrily wiping away a few sudden, sharp tears. It wasn't the punch as much as the shame of being found out. It had all been going pretty fuckin' well, in a weird alternative reality kinda way... The protection deal with his Prison Dad. Making some new friends. The pool and the football. He was almost - almost - starting not to miss his outside life and the tedious struggle of trying to live above his means. But now this...

He puts his head in his hands and stares at the floor between his feet. What is he gonna fuckin' do now? How would his dad react if he thought anyone knew about him gettin' serviced by his young cellmate? It'd ruin everything. He'd blame Jack for letting the cat out of the bag, for sure. Bad times. The fastest route to seriously unlucky... On the other hand, maybe the bent screw was bluffing when he'd said 'rumours' and hadn't actually spoken to anyone else yet. Jack fervently hoped that was true.

After contemplating it a minute, he decides the best thing is to say nothing at all to his dad, just sort it out himself. Give the stupid fucker whatever it is he's after... A weird feeling in his stomach at the prospect, quickly pushed aside... And hope that it went no further. Yeah, that's the only sensible course of action. He takes off his T-shirt and sneakers - still too fuckin hot - and lays down, fumbling inside the zip of his jeans for some easy distraction. Immediately, he begins to replay a fantasy which had already fired him up several times these past few days...

He's standing naked in a hotel bedroom, stroking his meat, watching his dad fuck a sexy young blonde on a double bed. Smooth pale skin, pert tits, legs spread wide... Her youthful perfection is in stark contrast to the muscular beast of the tattooed man shafting her. She's moaning in ecstasy as his massive rod slides in and out of her pussy. Biceps bulging, his fuzzed, muscular upper body is held horizontal in a press-up position over her as his relentless groin goes to work. "You're one fuckin sexy bitch, ain'tcha? You love my motherfuckin dick." Her moans rise in pitch as the intensity increases... So sexy watching the big guy doing what comes naturally to him... He's the fuckin man. Then his dad turns to look at him. 'You want some of this, Son?' and Jack imagines himself nodding mesmerized as he squeezes his aching member. "Yeah dad, just let me try it... Looks so fuckin hot…" His dad stares at him aggressively, but it's okay 'cause he knows his son isn't gay; knows Jack just has to submit to his authority. "Well if you want it, then you're gonna fuckin' get it." And he pulls out of the woman, who moves off the bed to let Jack take her place. Jack does. He can hardly believe what is about to happen... Fuck yeahhhh. His dick is like a rock now. He spreads his legs up and out, exposing his virgin hole, feels his dad's cunt-moistened weapon pressing insistently there (the first time he imagined this, he shot his load right there and then...) "Think you can take it son? Take yer dad's motherfuckin dick?" The massive frame looms over him, raw power, rough hands pinning his body to the bed. "Yeah, come on dad, give it to me." _Fuck yeahhhh._ "Oh, I'm gonna fuckin give it to yer alright." And in it slowly slides, the thick slick manhood forcing itself into him for the first time. So wrong and so right. Jack feels it remorselessly filling him as his dad grunts in deep satisfaction. Hairy groin now moving back and forth, stomach muscles flexin, mechanical but sensuous... Getting fucked like that sexy bird by his straight tough-nut dad. Getting. Fucked. So. Very. Hard. "Yeah, it's you and me now, son. You and me. I'm fuckin doin' ya…"

Suddenly a noise breaks into the young man's horny reverie. He pushes his raging boner firmly back inside his jeans in a hurry. _Shit._ But now the door is being unlocked and the object of his dark fantasy is back. _Maybe I'll be getting another mouthful tonight_ , Jack thinks, mind still swimming with lust. His dick throbs, denied release. He pretends to be dozing, facing the wall.

Sike is in a good mood. His session had gone well, the old knee injury behaving itself and everything pumped out to the max. He needs the boy to knead his shoulders and upper back again, but it can wait 'til later. He casts his eyes in the boy's direction: _Fuck, can he sleep! Seems to spend half the day in bed, the lazy fucker._ Still, there's plenty of time to kill... Plenty of time. He throws off his shirt and wipes himself down with a towel, still sweating despite the shower. It was too fuckin hot.

Towelling done, he drinks a pint or so of water straight from the tap, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when he finishes. He stands awhile next to the sink eyeing his son. The smoothness of his skin, lightly reddened from an hour in the sun; the lean, muscular definition on his short frame, their work-outs beginning to show results already; the youthful vulnerability of him. He idly plays with his thick tool through the shiny fabric of his shorts, gently squeezing the sensitive head. He'd been vulnerable once, and where had his fuckwit of a dad been? Down the bar most of the time, getting drunk. Some role model. He'd tried to be a good dad himself. Really tried. If only that bitch had played ball with his activities. Anger wells up in him, and he feels the urge to smash something.

He flings himself onto his bed and pulls out a porn mag from the pile underneath, reaching down to his shorts once more. He strokes his swelling meat through the thin fabric and let the familiar images set off habitual fantasies. _Yeahhh. Fuckin some tight pussy again. I can't wait._

Jack listens for a while to his dad's heavy breathing, the stifling heat seeming to feed his inertia. He can sense what's happening and his dick throbs painfully in his jeans. When he can stand the tension no more, he rolls on to his back and fakes a yawn, stretching his arms out above him. Sike looks up with a sly grin. _Good timing, kid._

"Rise and fuckin' shine, Son. There's work for you over here."

Jack raises himself up on his elbows to look at the shaven-headed tough guy waiting for him. His mouth hangs stupidly open. Once more, the undercurrent of danger sends his mind spinning; fear and awe slowing time to a crawl. _You really want him to do you, Jack? You must be out of your fuckin mind…_ A jolt of queasy excitement shoots through the youth as the aftershock of his hastily abandoned jerk-off fantasy imprints itself on to the raw terrifying reality.

"Come on kiddo, don't keep yer dad waitin'. Got another fuckin load for ya."

His dad is grinning evilly, magazine in one hand propped up on one raised massive thigh, right hand lazily caressing the long shape outlined in his exercise shorts. Duty calls. Second time today. _It's goin' in your mouth again, Jack._

He's in no position to resist... He gets up, a twinge of discomfort from where he'd been punched in the gut, crosses over the cell and kneels down by the bed, placing one arm on his dad's hairy outstretched leg and leaning forward to moisten the fabric over and around the man's big prick. The size of it thrills him anew and he softly chews at it through the fabric. Dog with a bone.

_Think how fuckin' lucky you are, Jack... You're fuckin sorted, remember?_

Diverting his attention from the porn for a moment, Sike lightly strokes his boy's hair. Jack pauses what he's doing and looks up at his dad. The sight of his son's cute young face hovering over his arousal fills the horny straight thug with mixed feelings: the undeniable urge to look after him like a dad should, and the bad desire of wanting to dominate his boy, to make him moan like a bitch in heat. Because he can. Because it's the best thing he's gonna get. Because, in this place, might makes right.

The man rolls up the fabric of his shorts a little and pushes his dick down so that the upper part of it pokes out. "Okay, get to lickin', Son," he orders.

Jack has no desire to disobey. The firm expanse of those fuzzy pecs and the bulging tattooed arms make him feel puny in comparison. He nods in his submissive trance. "Anything you say, Dad."

Fascinated young tongue makes contact with smooth shiny head and the erotic ritual of service resumes. He licks all around, lapping up the sticky juice oozing out from the dark opening, a taste now familiar but no less strange. Pushing the shorts back further to expose more of its impressive length, he takes the man's mature veiny meat into his mouth, leg hairs tickling his chin. This was real life alright: sucking on his dad's fat, juicy dick. Every day. He reaches in with his spare hand and caresses the man's sweaty nutsack.

The man continues to gently stroke his boy's head as the warm, pleasurable sensations spread out from his crotch. _Anything you say? Hmmm…_

"Good boy. You fuckin do what yer dad tells yer, don'tcha?" Another eager nod from below. "That's right."

He looks back to the porn mag and the picture of a young dark haired Italian looking girl being taken by two muscle guys, front and back, complete with close-ups of her double penetration. Her vacant smile to camera looks forced, but that turns him on even more. A fuckin' sexy shot, no mistake. He'd happily be one of them blokes givin it to her... Nice work if you could get it. He stares through a lustful haze at her complete violation. His meat's feeling real nice now, his son working it up just right. He looks at his son again, who's taken hold of the stiff weapon he was servicing in order to rhythmically slide up and down it with his soft lips, gradually picking up speed, using his right hand to increase the sensation. _Yeahhhh, this is fuckin' perfect... Sexy straight lad being made to suck his dad's meat.…_ He imagines how humiliated the boy must feel deep down at having to do this... _Yeahhhh. Doin what his dad tells him..._ His dad is gonna take him all the way soon: that's gonna be an adventure for both of em.

"Yeahhh, feels reeeal nice. You're fuckin good at that son. Fuckin good. You keep lookin' after that every day and yer dad'll look after you. We're the perfect team, huh? You and me…"

He's thrusting in time with the boy's movements now, feeling his climax getting closer. Ever closer. _Easy does it, Sike…_ He glances again at the porn and the two big dicks penetrating the young woman, one up her cunt, the other up her rear. Thinks about her takin' it from him. Dirty fuckin bitch. His tool'd loosen her up real nice.

Jack moans, beyond any rational thought, the deep voice spurring him on. If someone had told him last week that prison would mean being forced to slurp the come out of some scary fucker old enough to be his dad, he'd have seriously considered offing himself. But here he was doin' it. Really fuckin' doin' it. Crazy shit. The hot rigid meat slid beneath his slick hand, lips pushed wide by the fearsomely proportioned weapon. Almost ready to fire again. Jaw ache.

"Fuck yeahhhh. Suck that motherfucker, Son. You know what's comin. Better get that straight mouth of yours ready cause yer dad's gonna feed it ya any minute... And you better fuckin drink it all up this time or there'll be trouble."

Jack looks up at him quickly and nods. His face had been rammed hard for what seemed like ages yesterday afternoon. The erotic tension of the preceding work-out had just built and built, and by the time the reward for his hard work was getting shoved into his mouth he'd very quickly exploded into his cum stained boxers. But his dad had gone on and on, and at the end Jack's tiring lips had let some of the salty sweet seed slip out and dribble down his chin. The man had chided him, caught the juice with his knuckles and made him lick it off his massive clenched fist

The threat of 'trouble' is a timely reminder that this is no game, that the deal they have is on ongoing arrangement, not a given. The menacing narrow-eyed stare sets his heart racing, his natural straight instincts totally crushed by the hefty masculine domination of his dad. He'd damn well do what he was told. He focuses his full concentration again on the task in hand, his own aching member having to wait whilst he worked.

Sike looks at him with angry lustful satisfaction. Look at him. Mouth stuffed full of his old man's throbbing meat. Doing what he's told. He wants to give the boy a hint of what's to come without stating it outright. Play with his mind a bit...

"Tell you what, Son, you think this is good... You just wait. Think you might be gettin some real rough fuckin' action from me soon. Know what I'm sayin? You know you fuckin want it."

His boy moans again as the aggressive words slid into his skull. _Real rough fuckin' action... Does he mean it?_ The possibility sends shivers down his spine. The real fuckin deal. He's mad horny for it now, imagining the massive rod now filling his mouth being pressed up against his tight exposed hole, just like in his twisted wank-fantasy. _"You know you fuckin want it…" - "Yeah dad, just wanna try it…" Fuck yeah._ The anticipation is almost too much to bear. He feels the rough hand beginning to force his head down on to the slick, glistening meat, the man grunting like an animal, thrusts becoming more assertive. He knows what's coming now... _Shoot it, Dad. Shoot yer fuckin load._

"Ughhh. Ughhhh. Yeahhhh. Keep suckin. It's comin, Son. It's fuckin comin." The man is lost between the two images: the sexy young girl on the sofa getting double fucked and the cute, smooth straight boy being forced to service his horny dad. The two fed off each other in his mind, both rooted in his fierce desire to dominate. He is the fucking man; mighty weapon unstoppable. He feels his nuts tighten and vision blur.

"Uuuurrrrrrrghhhhh…"

Ecstasy overload. The cum begins to shoot violently into his son's tight warm mouth. Jack watches in numb disbelief as the pulsing manhood begins to feed him once more. He'd scored again. Fresh spunk goin down his throat. 

Life out of control.

  


  


  
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	4. The Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's about to embark on an adventure. Little does he know, it's an adventure for his dad too.

  


  


The following night, after free time out to watch some TV with a few friends, Jack finds himself back with his dad in the cell, playing cards and drinking, both stripped to the waist as usual. The air was hot and heavy. This is only the third time his dad has given him some booze, and as he hadn't fed his meat to the boy yet today there was plenty of tension in the air. This was the first day since the boy arrived that nothing had happened by the evening.

Jack is boned up and expectant and keeps glancing down the trail of fuzz to the crotch of those scruffy jeans. He can't properly explain his addiction to servicing his hard-nut dad's dick, he just enjoys being made to do it... He'd decides that most young straight lads like him must secretly want to be dominated by a muscly dad, but never got to try it. It's the only explanation that made any fucking sense. He really was fucking lucky. _Just imagine if Sike was yer real dad, Jack... How amazin' would that be?_

The day had been alright. He'd managed to avoid looking at the officer who had confronted him after the match the day before, even if a sixth sense told him he was being watched from time to time. The work-out earlier had been good, though the heatwave showed no signs of letting up and they both sweated plenty. It didn't end the way the previous one had, much to Jack's disappointment, but then they had been cut short by an officer (not the one Jack was avoiding) coming into the cell to have a word with Sike. Jack stretches his sore muscles out, listening to their low voices discussing numbers in short functional sentences. The barest minimum that needed to be said. Something is handed over.

Sike puts whatever it is under his bed behind the magazines. He'd quickly finishes off the stuff with Jack and says he has 'something he needed to do'. He rummages around and pulled out a tiny mobile phone – the first Jack had seen of it – and starts texting someone. Jack is intrigued but knows better than to ask questions. 'The less you know the better', he'd been told, and after the run-in with the officer he's starting to see the wisdom of that.

Leisure time over for the evening, here they are again in the small cell, playing cards. Jack is in the chair this time, his dad on the edge of his bed. They'd been playing for some time.

"Want some more, Son?" The man picks up the bottle from the floor near his feet. He wants to make sure the lad is nice and relaxed...

"Yeah, dad. Fill me up."

"That's my boy."

Jack hands over his cup and watches the massive man pour in another large measure. It's strong stuff. Still, at least it isn't affecting his ability to win this time. He wets his dry mouth, swallows, once more feeling the insane rush to his head. Whew, yeah. Definitely a bit tipsy now… _My dad can definitely drink more than me_ , he thinks. _Except for fuckin cum... Ha!_ Funny. He snickered out loud.

"Whatcha laughin at?"

"Oh nothin in particular."

His dad isn't having that. "No, you fuckin' tell me." His expression is completely serious. Jack looks at him, slightly unsteadily, the buzz of alcohol making him much less cautious.

"Just thinkin about how you can beat me at just about everything."

"You're doin alright tonight, Son. Fairly even so far."

Jack nods in acknowledgment. "Yeah well, maybe not that... But you can fuckin drink me under the table."

The man laughs. "Yeah. You're a bit of a fuckin lightweight, aren'tcha?" A mocking grin.

"No point fuckin arm wrestlin yer either…"

"Ya think?" The man has his head cocked on one side now, grin larger.

A thoughtful pause. Ahh, fuck it. He was on a roll now. "Bet you've screwed far more chicks too."

"Haha. Bit of a head start, eh? Helps." The grin is replaced by a more predatory stare. _What ya tryin to say, Son?_

"And yer fuckin dick's bigger than mine too."

Jack eyes the intimidating figure opposite, the fuzzy firm pecs, the unambiguous strength in his tattooed arms, the thick scar on his neck, the glint in his gray-blue eyes. His young horny mind was taking him places he'd never imagined going before getting locked up... _It's okay, Jack. Any straight boy in your position would willingly submit. Just a power thing, isn't it? Prison rules... Real men have to fuck, and your dad's a real fuckin man. You know you can't fight him…_ His dick pushes against the inside of his jeans. He'd seen the man go commando after the work-out and decided to emulate him.

The man looks at him with horny approval, the barest hint of a wry grin. He knows what his son is really tryin to say... _Come on dad, when's it gonna happen?_ This is coming along just nicely... He rubs his stubbled chin.

"Sounds like you got the horn, son."

"Kinda."

Man and boy look at each other, inevitable lust hanging between; the world reduced to them alone. The man drains his cup and puts down both it and his cards.

"Come over here." He pats the bed beside him. Jack knocks back the rest of his vodka and shakes his head as it goes down. A sharp exhale. Whew. Cup down. Cards down. He goes over as instructed, nervous excitement slithering rapidly through his veins.

The man reaches down for a porn mag. He sits further back on the bed with his back to the wall; Jack leans back next to him.

"Let's just take a look at some of these, huh?"

"Sure thing, Dad. They're fuckin' hot." It's the same magazine his dad had handed him that first night. "Show me that one of the blonde one suckin' will ya…"

It's located quickly enough, the pretty young face being violated by the veiny monster. Jack feels a surge below. Big dicks like that deserve to be sucked.

"Yeah, that's still fuckin hot, Dad." The boy idly rubs himself, visualizing his dad's hard veiny weapon there in front of him.

"Yeah, she's lovin that... Thinkin' about what's comin' next, I bet." The man is leading the lad on, step by step.

"Bet she is."

"You wanna see what happens next?"

"Fuck yeah."

The flick of a page. It was the same blonde straddling a muscled guy on a leather sofa, that big dick now plunged deep in her pussy. He was fairly tanned compared to her, which only seemed to emphasize the size difference.

"Ya like that one, Son?" The man is now adjusting himself through his jeans. He's gonna unzip any minute and get things movin'.

Jack's mouth is hanging open and he's absent-mindedly breathing through it in horny anticipation. He saw what the big guy was doing and found it hard to concentrate on the image, horny as it undoubtedly was. His mind was filled with the thought of his well-hard dad's meaty snake.

"Oh yeah, that's the fuckin business. She's really lovin that…"

His dad flicks through once more to another picture he particularly wants his son to see. The same blonde, this time on a double bed, legs spread wide, about to get rammed by some older muscle dude with tattoos down his arms. His meaty missile was poised ready, taking aim.

"Looks a bit like me, don't he?"

Jack is temporarily speechless. The similarity to his wank fantasy is incredible... The man, the woman, the position, everything. He could completely picture that bloke being his dad and him standing there stroking his meat in admiration watching him fuck that sexy lady. And then his dad turning to him... Woahhh. Fuckin freaky. And here was his dad showing it to him. He felt strangely lightheaded. That vodka had seriously done the trick. Nothing felt real now.

"Yeahhhh. Fuckin hell. That's a good one. Any more like that?"

His dad turns the page to where there were subsequent shots of the fuck in progress. The man leaning over her with his tool in deep, her head arched back in delight, tits thrust out. Too good. Too fuckin good. He wanted it.

"You like that, Son?"

"Fuck yeahhh." A pause. Dry, dry mouth. _Get the fuckin words out, Jack... You know you want to…_ "Bet that massive dick of his feels fuckin good." 

The man pauses too. _That's the right idea, Son. Nearly fuckin there now._ His substantial manhood swells in readiness.

"Yeah. Just like yer dad's would, huh?"

The boy becomes very aware of his breathing and the violent thud of his heart. Another dry swallow. _It's really gonna fuckin happen._ He stares at the erotic image on the page, his reply a husky whisper.

"Yeahhh."

"You want some of that then?" Jack can tell his dad is looking directly at him now. He thinks about his fantasy again. Is this really happening? He turns to the shaven-headed man, fierce stubbled face at close range. Before he can stop himself, the script slips out as if he's on autopilot.

"Yeah dad... Just wanna try it." The tough guy nods almost imperceptibly. "Looks so fuckin hot!"

 _Fuck. I actually said it. No going back now._ He looks again at the porn image: the long snaking dick lodged between the girl's spread legs; the muscular figure looming over her – complete domination. Fuck. He was gonna get shafted like that hot bitch. His straight tough-nut dad was gonna do him. This was gonna FUCKIN HURT... It was gonna be FUCKIN EXTREME.

"Oh it'll be fuckin hot, Son... I can promise you that. You're gonna get the fuck of your life." Jack knows the man means every word.

He puts the porn mag to one side and begins to unzip his dirty jeans. The lad watches in drunken breathless anticipation as the obscene fleshy cylinder springs free. The fucking beast looks bigger than ever. He licks his dry lips. His dad watches him, enjoying every single moment of his son's submission to the inevitable sweet torture to follow.

"Think you can take all that son? Think you can take yer dad's dick?"

Jack nods furiously. He's gonna make his dad proud of him, at any cost. "Fuck yeah."

The man strokes his stubbled chin again as if doubting the boy's commitment. "Hmmm. We'll fuckin see, shall we…" He's challenging him for kicks now, even though the matter is now settled in his mind. It's gonna fuckin' happen. Even if his son backs down and he has to pin him to the bed and stuff his mouth with something to keep him quiet, it's gonna fuckin' happen.

"I can fuckin take it dad. I'm ain't no fuckin lightweight." Sheer bravado. Jack really has no idea whether he can or not. But the words are out, and he isn't gonna back down now. The grim unstoppable logic of his sex-fantasy turning to reality.

"Uh-huh?" One last questioning grunt to test the boy's resolve.

Jack's mind is in turmoil as the hour of reckoning approaches. His straight instincts are pounding away in his skull that this is wrong, wrong, wrong, but another louder voice is saying that this was all just part of the deal, that he had to respect his tough dad's authority...

Real hard men with big dicks needed to fuck, dint they? Only right and proper. And his dad was a real fuckin hard man with a fuckin big dick. Fuckin big. Why stop just cause he was in prison? Still needed to fuck. Young straight lads like him had to learn to take it... In the throat. In the fuckin hole. No fuckin choice in the matter... _Yeahhhh_. The lack of control enflames his twisted lust further. _Still feelin' lucky, Jack?_

"Yeah, Dad. Fuckin' do me…"

The air in the cell is heavy and stifling. His dad is staring at him in silence, lightly fingering the head of his engorged meat. Ripples of anticipation. His dark serious eyes bore into Jack's.

"Well, don't you worry, Son, you're gonna fuckin' get it. Yer dad's gonna fuckin' work ya." Another shiver down Jack's spine. "Better make it nice and wet first, huh?"

Jack goes straight down without hesitation. The massive manhood enters his mouth, and he knows the terrifying journey is beginning. The man watches the boy set to work and massages the back of his smooth neck and shoulders, before working slowly up and down the boy's back with his rough hand. He admires the contrast between them: strong hairy forearm, slightly darker when set against the smooth, sun-reddened, pale skin of his son's back. His property. Haha. _This is fucked up shit, but fuckin' good all the same._

"Yeah, that's the way, Son. That's the fuckin' way. This is gonna be so fuckin' good, I'm tellin ya. Gonna take you somewhere you never been. Fuck yeahhhh." _Somewhere I've never been either_ , he thinks, but it'd been in his head for years now. Fucked a few women up the chute in his time, so it couldn't be that different. Tighter and better, if anything. He knows what he's doin' well enough.

The boy feels his dad's rough hand feeling him up. A rush of fierce emotion sweeps through him. The man has only really touched him before when they were working out, and it had turned him on so much to get that close attention and to be able to feel the man's firm muscles under the guise of a legit father-son discussion about correct technique. He'd wanted to chew on the man's bulging biceps and the inviting roundness of his fuzzy pecs, had even wanted to lick the sweat off him. Get his dad inside him. Become him. A raging unspoken desire to be accepted by the older man.

But so far, other than that, it had just been an unforgiving hand holding his head in place. Which is fuckin good too, of course... Being forced to submit to that powerful tool slamming into his ready mouth. As if on cue, he feels the man's other hand pushing him down on it; it's like the scary fucker can read his mind. His dick surges painfully in his jeans.

"Every fuckin inch, Son. Daddy's big juicy dick tastes good, don't it?" A low moan from below. "Imagine how fuckin' good it's gonna feel inside ya, huh? That big straight dick slidin' in yer tight hole…"

Jack is in a frenzy now, deepthroating his dad's meat and getting fired up by the sexy aggressive talk. This is the most intense thing he'd ever experienced in his whole short life.

From down the corridor outside, barked shouts.

"Five minutes, lights out."

Jack stops. _Fuck._ He lifts his head up to look at his dad.

"On yer chair." Jack did as he was told, cursing inwardly as Sike zipped his stiff meat away. They couldn't fuckin' stop now... "Pick up yer fuckin cards. We're still playin'."

Jack picks up the abandoned hand and swears under his breath. Sighs loudly. Sike quickly hides the vodka away and picks up his cards too. He fixes the boy with a serious stare and winks at him.

A few moments later, a voice at the door grill. "Hey, you two. Time to pack up."

Jack thinks he recognizes the voice. He grimaces at the reminder.

Sike looks over to the door and gives a lazy salute. The sound of footsteps moving away. He leans forward to the boy to speak in a low voice.

"They'll be wanderin up and down for fifteen minutes or so, that's all. Then they'll fuck off for a couple of hours at least. Same every night. Just wait til I tell ya."

Jack mopes over to his bed, frustrated. His dad moves the small table back to the wall, shoves the porn mag under the bed and rummages around for some other things before sitting down on the corner of his bed nearest Jack and very deliberately removing his jeans while keeping his eyes fixed on the boy. His still hard meat jutted out proudly.

"Get yer fuckin' jockstrap off."

The lad does as he's told. No hiding his boner. He feeps embarrassed being completely naked in front of his dad like this; his inexplicable desire condemning him to his fate. His dad eyes him hungrily. The boy's stiff dick is of no interest to him, except in that it shows his son is gagging for some action. Typical teenager, always horny. He grabs his meat, knuckles tight, and growls at the boy like an animal, face screwed up, teeth bared. It's just for a moment, but it fills Jack with insane lust.

"Like I said. Wait til I tell ya." The man moves back to lie horizontal, uncovered. The boy does the same on his bed, heart still thumping. 

_Patience._

Darkness.

Gradually, Jack's eyes become accustomed to the gloom. The small, high window actually lets in a fair amount of light. There are bright yardlights somewhere outside which throw a dim glow into the room. Slow footsteps go past in the corridor. He turns to face the wall. The longest fifteen minutes of his life. He toys with the outside of his pucker, imagining over and over again the press of his dad's thick meat... _How is it gonna fuckin fit?_ He shivers with anticipation in the sultry night.

Sike lays with hands clasped behind his head on the pillow. He'd known they'd have to wait until lights out, he'd just lost track of time slightly. Other than that, it was all going very much according to plan. He grins in the dark, counts and listens. Silence drops over them both. Finally, the sound of the door at the end of the corridor, then nothing.

Jack hears movement from across the cell and senses the glow in the room becoming less dim.

"Hey. Son. Over here. _Now_." 

The hissed instruction makes him sit up immediately. His dad had put on some form of small light on the table, red T-shirt tossed over it to curb it's brightness. He's standing by his bed, the dim red light on his broad frame, creating shadows which accentuate the curves of his muscles. His semi-aroused beast is only partially visible, the rest lurking in the darkness between the massive legs. The strange dream-like quality of the light heightens the boy's horny intoxicated state. His dad looks more like a fighting machine than ever. Like a fucking demon.

He gets up and goes over to stand in front of the man. Harder. Taller. Older. Stronger. He wants to chew the man's pecs even more now, but still doesn't dare. He's going to do exactly what he's told. The man stretches his arms above his head and bends his knuckles back until they crack. Drops them again. He speaks quietly and forcefully.

"Right. Let's start again, shall we? But this time we ain't fuckin' stoppin. Down ya go, kiddo."

Jack sinks to his knees, his eyes tracing past those masculine pecs, and following the tapering fuzz of the wide chest down past the firm hairy stomach. His dad's semi-hard sex emerges into the red glow from shadow, foreskin partially covering the emerging head, bulging nutsack dangling behind. 

_What an amazin' fuckin' sight that is... Proper fuckin tackle. Surely any straight boy given the chance would want to suck on their dad's king-size meat?_

_Yeah, of course they would, Jack…_

Something deep within his mind tries vainly to resist, but the urge to succumb is much, much stronger. This is the night his dad is gonna fuck him. No goin' back now. 

This is fate.

He reaches forward with his tongue and makes contact, forbidden male territory his to explore all over again. Eager lips enclose the fat veiny beast. 

_Fuck yeah. You're really doin it, Jack…_

He reaches up with a hand to softly caress the man's nuts, knowing how much his dad likes that. Back and forth his young mouth works in the dim red glow, massaging and lubricating the monster to complete readiness, feeling and watching it expand and stiffen. Nothing else matters now. Twelve thick inches of his dad to pleasure. This was gonna be so good... His own meat ached, untouched.

The man watches his son get his fucktool ready with fierce fatherly pride, his son's cute face doing its necessary duty well, soft young lips trying their best to please. 

_Yeahhhhh. Straight boy and his dad just doin what comes naturally. Feels so fuckin' good._

"Yeah, that's the fuckin' way, Son. Gettin' yer old man nice and hard now, ain'tcha? How fuckin tasty is that?" Jack moans softly and sucks even more vigorously for a few moments longer. "Think we're just about there, huh?" Jack nods in a daze. 

The man pulls away.

"Right, let's fuckin do it. On yer back…" Sike likes the idea of simply bending the boy over and taking him standing up, but on this first occasion he really wants to see the ecstasy and agony on his son's cute face.

"Sure thing dad." Jack is in a horny trance – his dark and twisted jerk-off fantasy entwined with reality. He gets up and lays down on his dad's bed, head on pillow, legs apart to expose his defenseless hole. He doesn't dare touch his stiff member.

The man reaches down for something - the bottle of massage oil - and pours some into one cupped palm. He places himself in position on the bed, massive muscular thighs pinioning the boy's pert behind. Jack puts his spread legs so that his heels are almost behind his dad's lower back. He looks up in wonder at his muscled father figure: this is just how he'd imagined it. 

_This is fuckin perfect._

"Let's get you fuckin' ready, Son."

Jack feels the man spreading oil on his hole, and a couple of rough fingers rubbing all around it. _Oh fuck. No one's ever touched me there before... Feels so fuckin weird. Dirty._

Then, a lubed up index finger begins to penetrate, pushing insistently at the ring of muscle which has to admit the intruder. The boy stares, open mouthed, unable to process the sensation. The finger goes deeper.

"Fuck... Oh fuck…" 

_Please Dad, take it easy…_

"Yeahhh. You like that, do ya kiddo?" Sike applies more oil, working him with two fingers now. Probing. Teasing. Looking lustfully at his son's tender tight hole.

"Nnnnghhh." Jack stares at him in desperation. Scared. Buzzed up. On heat. _No goin' back now…_ He looks down to see the muscular, tattooed forearm at work.

"This is what real dads do, Son... Show their boys how it's fuckin done. I'm gonna fuckin show you alright... Gonna get the fuck of your life."

The man's sexy words surround Jack, sending his mind into horny overdrive. _Yeahhh, young straight lads like me have to be shown. Taught a lesson._ He's close to hyperventilating now, his voice a husky whisper.

"Come on, Dad, give it to me…"

The man fixes him with an intense stare, his voice deadly serious. "Oh don't you worry, Son, I will. You're gonna fuckin get it."

Jack feels the aggression fire him up even further. His dick twitches, eager to be touched. "Yeahhh…"

His dad removes his fingers and begins smearing the remaining oil over his engorged meat, enjoying how good it felt in his slick hand. _It's gonna feel even better in a minute…_ Jack watches the fearsome weapon being prepped in the dim red glow. 

_Look at the fuckin size of it!_

Fear and desire impossibly intertwine in his nervous body. This couldn't really be happening, could it? He touches his own meat briefly, a jolt of pleasure and guilt. He mustn't show his dad how badly he wants this. Heart beating fast and furious, he takes his hand away.

The man looks at his son. The lean, defined picture of youth. Smooth and vulnerable. Nervous excitement in his cute face. 

_Yeah, I'm gonna fuckin give it to him…_

_You're a bad dad, Sike._

He carefully inches forward a fraction to place his mighty fuck meat in position, making sure it's in exactly the right place. The shiny head presses against the boy's tender hole, invasion imminent. Jack feels it there and bites his lip. Shadowed contours of hairy muscle tower over him. 

_Still feelin lucky, Jack?_

"Here we fuckin go, Son." 

Looking carefully at where his dick is going initially, Sike presses forward very slowly. 

_Yeahhhh. Fuck time!_

There's only the slightest resistance then the shiny head squeezes in. Jack feels the pressure and then the shock of it opening him up. He gasps, wide-eyed. The man growls at his boy, eyes narrowed. He was fuckin in there. Finally. It was so fuckin tight. _YEAHHHHHHHH!_ He eases forward slowly, grim determination on his face, mightily turned on by the act, the sensation, the boy's tense expression...

"Oh you're so fuckin tight son. This is gonna be reeeeal good…"

The lad watches, awestruck, as the man takes complete control of him, inching in with terrifying inevitability. _You're gettin' fucked, Jack. This is what it's all about. Fucked by your tough-nut Prison Dad. Fuck yeahhh._

Fantasy into reality... 

_That massive straight dick being forced up yer tight hole. Really gettin it. Oh yeah. Incredible. Hurts. Hurts. So. Good…_

"Fuckin. Hell. Dad. Nnnnghhhhhh…"

It's really fuckin happenin. Really. Fuckin. Happenin. Fuckin brutal.

"Feels fuckin nice, don't it?" The man watches his son struggle to cope beneath him with horny satisfaction. So he fuckin should. It was all about the conquest for him; demonstrating his superiority to the boy. He nudges his meat deeper still.

"Nnnnghhhh. Yeah."

"You fuckin wanted it, Son."

Jack's head swims. He still does, even though the sinking realization is dawning that he may have just made the biggest mistake of his life in admitting it. _This is never gonna work... I'm just too tight… My dad's big dick is gonna rip me apart._

"Fuckin. Still. Do."

He gazes at the muscular body overpowering him, the powerful sweep of fuzzy torso down to where that hot meat was being driven remorselessly in. It all looks so fuckin hot, and he wants his dad inside him so bad. The man leans forward and places rough hands on the boy's smooth defined chest, pinning him down firmly. He begins to make slow, sensuous thrusts, working his massive cock ever deeper.

"This is just the fuckin start, kiddo. When I've done women, they usually end up fuckin' beggin me for mercy... Know what I'm sayin? You gonna show yer dad you can take it?"

Jack nodded. "Nghh... Yeahhh." The pain and pleasure of his submission is extreme. Inhibition and reason slipping away, he reaches up to grip the bulging biceps of those tattooed arms. His well-hard dad. The contrast of his smooth defined muscle against the hairy tattooed hulk sets his desire blazing faster. _It's really fuckin happenin. You're gettin shafted, Jack, just like that bitch... Fuckin gettin' what you wanted... Now fuckin' relax and take it…_ Confused and horny, he spreads his legs that little bit wider and grits his teeth.

His dad feels the shift and nods his approval. "Yeah, that's the fuckin way son... Give it up for yer old man. Yer dad's fuckin' doin yer now. Fuckin' loosenin you up with his big dick."

Only another few inches to go... Sike forces it in to the very base, eliciting a gasp from the boy.

"Yeaaahhhh. You're fuckin takin it all now. How about that?"

Jack moans softly. His hole is being stretched wider than he could ever have imagined. He feels the man's hard length reaching into his gut. It burned. Nothing could have prepared him for this. He was fuckin' trapped now.

"The whole of yer dad's big dick inside yer... You're doin' real good, Son."

"Nnnnnghhh. Feels. Amazing."

The man is filled with a fierce unquenchable lust. He knows his son is taking it for the first time and is gonna take a little while to adjust. He holds it there, looking down at the dark wiry fuzz of his crotch up against smooth young cheeks. _Yeahhhh. My fat hard tool right in there, nice n deep. In control._ He loops his arms under the boy's legs to push them right back and leans right over the boy menacingly in the dim red glow now, hands placed either side, his close range stare pinning the boy down as much as the weight of his well-muscled frame.

"Ever thought it'd be as good as this, Son?"

He begins to gently thrust his full length in long smooth strokes. The boy had the look of an animal, staring into his eyes with a glazed hunted expression. _Fuckin yer own son, eh Sike? Who'da fuckin thought it. Yer a twisted fucker. But then again... It was about fuckin time. Years of frustration for some fuckin action, finally being released with some horny straight boy violation. Fuck yeahhhh._

"Never... Thought…"

Jack struggles to answer the question: the sensation is too extreme. The man's sex feels like a shaft of fire in him. _Maybe this is hell_ , he thinks in his drunken horny state, _... Maybe this will never end... Forcefucked forever._ He looks down the massive torso through the red tinged gloom to the steady flex of muscle below, working his tight hole. 

_The fuckin' sight of it. A real man fucking me… My dad fucking me... So unbelievably hot…_

He instinctively reaches for his dick and began to squeeze the head, the good sensations making the fire easier to deal with. He's giving out soft little moans on every thrust now.

"Think you might be wantin this every week too, huh? Yer dad needs a good fuck every now and again, y'know."

"Sure... Thing... Dad."

"It can be a treat for you on weekends, how about that?" Sike grins inwardly at his own nasty inventiveness. Making it sound like a fuckin trip to a football game or something. He laughs.

"Yeahhh... do ya like that?" 

Oh fuck. This is gonna happen again and again and again. He knows his dad means exactly what he said. His horny confusion magnifies.

"You'll still get fed during the week though. Don't you fuckin worry about that."

Jack doesn't doubt it for a second. As the minutes pass, he feels the speed and intensity nudging upwards and his moans increasing in pitch and volume, punctuated with short sharp intakes of breath. His battered rear is now being rammed with some considerable force by his mean and muscled dad, and the fire inside is building. The dull slap and slosh of ferocious penetration breaks the night's hush, the man talking low and dirty to him as he always did.

"Think you like takin it from yer dad, don'tcha son... You like getting fucked by yer old man?"

"Nnnnnnghhh."

"Yeahhhh. Feel that motherfuckin dick inside ya. All the fuckin way."

"Nnn... Nnnggh. Yeahhhh."

"I'm takin you the fuckin distance, Son. Doesn't get better than this…"

Jack's tormented mind is full of his dad's brutal strength, the older man's hard muscular body working him mercilessly in the dim red glow. _Maybe this really is hell._ It was fuckin intense. TOO fuckin intense... He could hear the increasing urgency of his own moans and was unable to stop himself making them. No control. Fear and violence sliced into his horny teenage head... _Oh fuck... Oh fuck... You're bein fuckin assaulted, Jack... And you fuckin asked for it…_ He grips the massive biceps harder and stares desperately into his dad's mean stubbled face. How long was this gonna go on for? How bad was it gonna get? _You really thought you could take it, Jack... You fuckin idiot…_

"Dad…"

"Yeah?"

"Can we... Nnnnghh... Slow down... Nnngh... A bit."

Sike pauses for a moment, his massive meat lodged in deep. The pleading look on his son's face gave him a surge of sadistic pleasure.

"Please, Dad?"

The man narrows his eyes again. He knew this was coming. Knew he'd take his son to the edge soon enough... Well, they were gonna fuckin' stay there now. No going back. His son is just gonna have to learn that his dad plays hard and fucks hard. He pushes the boy's arms roughly away and leanes over so that his own face is right in his son's.

"Nahhh, you fuckin wanted it, Son, so I'm givin it to ya. I warned ya, dint I? Didn't I?"

The anger in the man's voice and expression is not to be argued with, and Jack knows he shouldn't have even asked. _Bad boy, Jack._ A dry gulp. He nods meekly in defeat.

"Open your mouth." Jack does as he's told and his dad spits directly into his mouth. Intimidation and possession, rolled into one. Jack had no choice but to accept. His dad glared at him for a few seconds and did it again.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm in charge here, Son. Don't you fuckin forget it. Shut yer fuckin mouth and take what you're given. You wanted to get fucked by your dad? Well, this is what it's like. Fuckin live with it."

The man raises himself back again to his previous position and continues to glare at the boy. The assault resumes, swiftly becoming as ferocious as before. Jack savors his dad's spit. He feels feverish. His meat had gone semi-soft with fear and he squeezed it for some reassurance.

"Nnnn... Nnnghhh. Sorry, Dad."

"You will be."

The boy stares down the firm fuzzy body again as the man's dangerous weapon goes relentlessly to work on him. He can't deny his dark desire to have his tough-nut dad inside him, and yeah, this was what it was like. This was just what it was like. _Live with it, Jack._ He tunes back to the sex fantasy which had turned him on so much and made him want to submit to this ordeal in the first place... The unbearably hot idea of his straight prison thug dad offering him a chance to experience a raw fuck from a real man. _Yeahhhhhh. The real fuckin deal. Tattooed muscly fighter doing me like that horny bitch in the porn mag. Fuck yeahhhh._ Undeniable pleasure flooded into his hand and head. The fire still burned but he found he could just about override it. A kind of dreamy acceptance descended over him. _Yeah, this is what it's like, Jack. Never gonna be easy, was it?_

He's still moaning loudly all the while with each deep firm thrust. The speed increases still further. The man rests most of his weight on his right arm and places the wrist of his other arm over the boy's mouth, forcing both his smooth legs up a little further as he does so.

"Bite on that son. We don't wanna make too much noise, eh?"

Jack nods eagerly. His mouth clamped on to firm hairy muscle.

"Told you I'd give ya the fuck of your life, didn't I? Nothin feels quite like yer dad's big dick, huh?"

A muffled moan from the boy in response, his cute face in the dim red glow looking imploringly at him. Perfect.

"Yeahhh... This was always gonna happen, kiddo. Just how things are meant to be, y'know? You and me…"

Fuck, that pussy hole feels sweet; he'd loosened it up good and proper. _Sike, you always were a fuckin stud. Yeahhhh. My son will never forget this night as long as he lives…_

"Still gonna look after you, Son, don't you worry. You just gotta learn to take the rough with the smooth, y'know? I'm the best fuckin dad you'll ever have."

Jack feels the force of the man's tough love sear him. The meaty cock slides back and forth, brutal and unstoppable. The fire in his hot hole is being replaced by a kind of numbness which is proving easier for him to deal with. He rubs himself with growing pleasure as the fuck begins to shift up another gear. _Oh yeahhhh. This was the real fuckin' deal. Me and my dad, together at last. Dad showin' me how it's done with that mighty motherfuckin tool. We're really fuckin' doin' it._ He chewed urgently on the firm muscle pushing down on his face. He'd show his dad what he was made of.

"Fuckin good, innit?" Sike gave him a slightly malicious grin.

The boy nods passionately in his drunken daze, still moaning with each thrust. Yeah. Fuckin good torture, more like. But it's getting better and better. Starting to feel soooo good now... He is really taking it, like a good boy. Doing what he was told.

"Fuck yeahhh. Dad's showin' you now, huh? This is what it's really like." He drills his stare into the boy's cute, young face. "You're lovin it, aren'tcha? Takin it like that dirty bitch…"

Jack shifts his head a little so he could speak. "Nnnn... You're the... Nnnngh... Fuckin man, Dad... Nnnnnnnnghhhh" He chews again at the man's hard, hairy forearm flesh and his moans continue.

Sike snarles at him, nostrils flared, teeth bared. The minutes roll by, feeling like hours to Jack, the powerful assault on his perfect arse becoming more urgent as the finish line nears. The man's sweating with the exertion of keeping his hefty body in position supported mostly by the one arm. It's like a work-out in itself, but he knows it's a good show for the boy to see how fit his dad is, so he sticks with it a bit longer. Sweat drips from his forehead on to the boy's face. Deep animal grunts and muffled moans fill the cell.

Jack knows his dad's getting close because he can tell by the look on his face and the noises he's making. _Fuck yeah._ He realizes with a jolt that it means a load of fresh come is about to be shot up his hole. _Fuck._ He hadn't really thought about that. Like his dad is breedin' him or something... _Yeaahhh…_ So hot and dirty...

"Yeahhh, you're fuckin' takin' it now, ain'tcha? Almost there, Son…"

The heat of the room seems to intensify, the dim red glow illuminating the hot fuck's inevitable conclusion. 

Nothing else exists.

The man's lustful imagination is filled with the thought of pumping his seed into the smooth, defenseless youth beneath him. He is the fuckin man alright. Tough. Dominating. He takes his arm away from the boy's mouth to hear him moan properly again – fuck the screws – and sits up for a moment, glancing down to look again at his fat, mature, veiny manhood violating the boy. _Oh yeahhh... Fuckin look at that... Dad meat plungin' in his son's virgin hole._ He keeps his son's legs wide in mid-air with his arms and leans forward to pin down those smooth, young arms against the bed, wanting to prevent the boy from pleasuring himself. This is about what he wants now, and he's gonna come. The boy has to learn to wait until his dad is fully satisfied.

Jack's horny young mind is buzzing wildly at the reality of the raw and ferocious fuck and the weight of the hard man forcing him down. Total straight male domination. His dad's engorged manhood rams him over and over, his own dick forcibly abandoned by the tight grip on his upper arms, taut tattooed muscle keeping him in place. He gazes at the scar on the man's thick neck, down to the firm rounded fuzzy pecs – fuck he wants to chew on those nipples so much – down to where that big dick is working his hole like it's a fuckin' pussy. His strong Prison Dad is really givin it to him.

"Yeaaahhhh. You fuckin like that?"

"Nnnnghhh. Yeah... Harder... Dad."

"Gonna shoot you full of my come any minute, Son. You ready for that?"

Sexy dominant aggression fills Jack's skull and vision. His own meat denied, he's being forced to concentrate completely on his tough-nut dad's satisfaction, the hardness of him, his hot come... 

_He's a real fuckin man, your dad is, Jack._

_Yeahhhh._

He's fuckin ready alright. He can almost taste the man's hot juice on his tongue.

"Oh yeah. Please, Dad. I want it all."

Sike is on fire, his groin, a steely machine, muscles working overtime to pound the boy's rear end, nutsack banging against smooth skin. So unbelievably fuckin' good. It had been far too long...

"You're gonna fuckin get it, son."

"Yeah, go on, Dad. Fuckin shoot your load in me…"

Sike nods fiercely. Nearly fuckin there... The boy is fuckin' takin' it all, his dad's big straight dick riding him like a horny bitch. _Cute little fucker. Takin' it._

"Oh yeah. Oh yeahhhh. Fuck yeahhhh. I'm fuckin comin, Son…"

Dad and son unite in sex. They stare at each other in the hellish gloom, Sike breathing heavily as he tips over the edge, eyes glazing over, Jack moaning frantically as the king-size meat makes it's last few savage thrusts inside him. The excitement of feeling his dad pinning him down ready to unload fills him with a sudden fierce pride. His dad is about to shoot in him... This was the real thing. This was the REAL FUCKIN THING.

"Go for it, dad. Yeahhh…"

"Uuuurrrrrrghhhhhhhhhh…"

The man's muscled body shivers with ecstasy as he begins to pump the spunk from his nuts. _Fuckin' givin' it to him._ He rams it one last time to the base and stays there. Total satisfaction. 

Shootin' it...

Jack feels the hot nutsack pressing against his skin and the pulsing of thick meat inside as the seed is released. Injection of pure masculinity from his tough-nut dad. _Feels so fuckin RIGHT._ He moans his approval, high with horny relief at his dad's climax, drenched in testosterone and sweat. _Fuckin hot. So fuckin hot._ The perfect moment stretches out into the heavy night. He can hardly believe what just took place. He fuckin' took it like that bitch in the porn mag. _Yeahhhh... Good boy, Jack. Did yer dad proud, dintcha? Dintcha?_ His dick yearns for release, but it can wait. He watches his dad keenly.

Sike is savoring his moment of triumph. He breathes in and out loudly and stares down at his conquest in the aftermath, beads of sweat dripping on the boy. That had been too fuckin' good. He nods at his son, a broad grin breaking out on his rough face.

"Told ya it'd be the fuck of your life, Son. What do ya reckon?"

Jack stares at him in rampant horny submission, pinned to the bed, fists clenched, shaking slightly with the intensity of the experience. That straight meat is still lodged right up inside him, feeling like it had always belonged there. _Yeahhhh... The fuck of my life... That's an understatement. How fuckin lucky are you, Jack?_

He grinned back.

"Yeah. You're the fuckin best, Dad."

  


  


  
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	5. The Bull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has a panic attack, and his dad isn't having it.

  


  


Another week. The third. Early morning. Jack is dreaming...

He walks through a long deserted corridor which seems to stretch on forever. It feels like his old high school, even though it doesn't look very much like it. Where is everyone? He speeds up, sensing something following. Doesn't want to look. Breaks into a run. Some red double doors. Locked. Tugs at them furiously. _Open you fuckers._ Bursts through to yet more corridors. Still running. Another set of locked doors. They don't open, no matter how desperately he kicks at them. Turns round. 

An explosion of light.

Now he's in a small arena of some kind. A handsome young matador faces a large black bull, people crowding around the arena to witness the spectacle. No one can see Jack there observing the action. The young man dodges the bull's horns again and again, but he has no weapon, no defence except his agility. There can only be one winner here. The bull catches his side and he goes flying into the dust. He scrambles on to all fours, panting and naked. Too slow.

His opponent charges again from behind, but instead of goring him, stops and clambers clumsily over his back. The young man knows what is about to happen and freezes; Jack knows what is about to happen and stares in envious anticipation. The bull bends its back legs and the erect shaft, a metre or so long and thicker than a beer can, presses up against the young man's smooth skin, skillfully edging into position. Magnificent. Fearsome. Deadly.

Impossibly, it begins to penetrate its conquest, the great head pushing past the unready ring of muscle. The terrified young matador can't possibly take such a size and grimaces, his face down to the ground, sweating into the dust. But all Jack can do is admire the savage beauty of the ultimate bestial act. The moment of entry repeats itself in gory close-up: gigantic bull-dick squeezing open the young man's tight behind. Incredible. The beast is inside him now, sliding relentlessly in. And still further in. The young man's muscles are tensed in exquisite agony and Jack is totally transfixed. Suddenly, the man transforms into a bull himself: small, dark and sleek. The adult bull keeps up the pressure regardless and the younger one confidently takes what is given. The crowds are silent.

Jack's eyes flick open and he stares at the wall a few inches away, reality taking a few moments to kick in.

 _Fuck, that was weird. That was soooo fuckin weird._ The shocking image of the beast's dick forcing it's way into the naked young matador etched terrifyingly into his memory. He won't forget that in a hurry. Trouble is, his reaction to it in the dream had been all wrong: it had turned him on.

He became aware that there was the sound of heavy regular breathing and movement in the small room. _Must be the big guy exercising again. Crazy fucker._ How he finds the energy so early in the morning, Jack has no idea. He listens awhile, trying to get normality back into his head.

Already, the outside world feels like something of a distant memory, even though he'd had his first visit two days ago from one of his crew, Tommo. Ever loyal, if a bit dim, is Tommo. He'd expected to feel a pang of envy or something at news from outside, but hearing his gang member banter on about stuff which he wasn't part of anymore was just... well... a bit meaningless. He feels like he's outgrown it already. He'd found himself thinking about Tommo's ugly bruiser of a dad and idly imagined him shoving his meathead son down on to his knees, pulling out the large old tool from his paint splattered work jeans... "Shut the fuck up, lad, and get yer mouth round that. Yer mum can't be bothered anymore, so you might as well make yerself useful. You owe me some fuckin rent anyway." Jack had grinned to himself, hornily imagining his mate's confused face as his dad's prick was rudely shoved in. _Tommo, you haven't fuckin lived…_

Turning on to his back, Jack rubs the sleep from his eyes. He lays there uncovered to the waist, contemplating. He puts his hands behind his head and looks over at his dad, the man's powerful torso moving up and down.

Finally, Sike looks up and sees Jack watching him. He springs to his feet, now a muscular shadow looming over the bed, blocking the light from the high barred window. Jack eyes the bulging curves of the man's worked muscles and smells the sweat from him. A vein pulses.

"Mornin', Dad."

"Mornin', Son."

Sike stares at his boy a moment. _Too cute._ He eyes his buzz cut hair (as of the day before); his smooth exposed chest; the thin line of dark fuzz leading down from his bellybutton; those sleepy innocent blue-green eyes... Some Irish blood in him somewhere, probably. Horny. Sure, the boy didn't turn him on quite the way some sexy fuckin' bitch would, but he knew once they got started it would be just as good. No two fuckin' ways about it. Being in control fired him right up, and rough, fuckin' action was what he was made for. Best he was gonna get. Best the boy was gonna fuckin' get.

This morning he'd woken up extra horny and aggressive after some frustrating dream or other about someone from his distant past; the dream vanishing like smoke and leaving its emotional charge behind. The quick work-out had channelled his anger but not managed to reduce it. His pumped up body and mind are yearning for a proper release. Easily solved.

Eyes fixed on his prey, and without a word, he drops his shiny exercise shorts and steps out from them. Malicious, sexy grin. He sees the boy's uncertain eyes flick irresistibly down toward his tackle. 

_Yeahhh, that's right boy. Get an eyeful of that. Dad's gonna be doin somethin with it very soon…_

"Always too fuckin hot in here, isn't it?"

"Yeah, just a bit."

Jack knows he shouldn't be caught staring at the man's mighty dick until the choice is taken away from him. He quickly shifts his gaze away from the long dangling meat, and back up to the brute strength in the man's awesome upper body instead, the bulging curves of those hairy pecs and tattooed biceps, the scar on his thick neck, the serious jawline and shaved head. His scary fuckin thug of a dad. Nervous swallow of anticipation.

"Guess what?"

"What?" Jack feigns innocence.

"You're fuckin getting it, that's what."

Sike clambers on to the bed, straddling his son's chest. So far, he'd mostly made the boy get on his knees before him. This time though, he thinks he'll try somethin a little different to fit his angry mood. Jack feels the hefty weight of the man trapping him in place; now he can't touch his surging dick even if he wanted to.

"Get your head up" the man instructs. Jack folds his pillow so as to prop up his head to a better angle and the man shunts the boy backwards several inches so that his head and the pillow are firmly pushed up against the low headboard.

The bulky masculine torso and arms fill Jack's field of vision; sex and violence incarnate. Raw male meat lurked there between the tree trunk thighs. His dad's big straight motherfuckin dick... He watches helplessly as the man shifts forward slowly, widening his mighty legs, and bringing the sweaty crotch up toward its target. A flutter of nerves slither through; he senses, rightly, that he's gonna get rammed mercilessly in this position. _Fuck._ He can feel the animal heat swamping him. He cautiously lays his hands on the firm hairy thighs.

Sike looks down his well-worked muscular body with approval; yeah, he still has what it takes. He's the fuckin' man. He feels the blood rush to his dick. The familiar sight of his lengthy member beginning to harden before the teenager's cute face fills him with a raging lust to dominate. _So wrong it just has to be right, yeah? Like anyone gives a flying fuck about right or wrong in here…_ The ritualistic act of sexual barbarism was everything he had thought it would be these long frustrating years. The prospect of forcing those soft lips wide with his monster meat is just so unbelievably fuckin' sexy. Every. Fuckin. Time. The stark contrast of his slightly darker flesh against the lad's pale skin. A bad straight dad reminding his son who was top dog. _Just like it should be…_

"Take a good look at that fucker, Son. That's a real fuckin' man's dick, huh?" Sike's voice was deep and deliberate. Authoritative.

Jack still hasn't shaken the strange dream entirely. It floods back into his consciousness and he feels weak. _Fuckin bull-dick._

"Sure is, Dad."

"Fuckin' bigger than yours, innit?"

"Yeah. Fuckin' is... Fuckin' massive."

"Want me to feed it ya again?"

A moment's hesitation.

"Yeah. Fuckin give it to me, Dad."

"Yeah?"

Jack stares, only half aware of what he's saying. The fat, juicy dick is dangling threateningly in front of his face once more, preparing to assault him. Serious male tackle intimidating him into submission. Symbol of his dad's rightful position over him.

"Please, Dad…"

 _Fuckin massive, isn't it... The real fuckin thing... Has to be sucked by someone, doesn't it?_

_Yeah, that'll be you Jack._

_Those huge hairy nuts behind, waiting to release the payload... Yeahhhhh. Firm muscles ready to flex... Fuck yeahhhh._ His straight instincts battle vainly for traction, struggling against the full-on headrush of his dad's testosterone fuelled sexual aggression.

 _Why are you lettin this happen, Jack?_

_You know why. Ain't got no fuckin' choice…_

_That monster prick's fuckin with yer mind…_

_I know it is. Can't fuckin' say no, can I? Feels hot givin' in to it…_

_It's gonna totally fuck you up…_

_Yeah, but he's fuckin' lookin after me, ain't he?_

_Or maybe he's gonna fuckin' destroy you…_

_Fuck off. Fuck right off. I want this to happen. I wanna get fucked by him._

_You mean you wanna get fucked by the bull?_

_That wasn't fuckin real. He's real._

But a sliver of fear slices Jack's dreamy desire. The memory of the metre long bull-dick being driven into the matador again flashes across his young skull; the young man about to be fucked to death by the mighty animal. _Shit. What a way to go…_

Sike watches the boy's confusion with amusement. He loves toying with him. "Tell me how much you want it, Son."

Jack paused and refocuses. Dangerous territory. Despite everything that had happened over the past two weeks, he can't admit to needing this too readily. He has enough trouble admitting it to himself.

"I... I ain't fuckin' gay, Dad. You know I fuckin ain't."

"Uh-huh…"

"Just... Wanna be a good boy, y'know? Wanna show you some respect." This is the only rationale which allows Jack to save some face. His life-raft in the stormy sea.

"Yeah, course you do... But you like the taste of it, don'tcha? Yer dad's tasty straight meat shootin' its big load in yer mouth…"

Jack feels his identity being crushed all over again by the man's interrogation. Of course he doesn't want it, but... but it feels so good obeying his tough-nut dad; being forced to do these forbidden things. Makes no fuckin sense. His heart pounds furiously. _Yeahhhh. Reeeal fuckin tasty._ The truth spilled out of him.

"Fuck yeah. Best fuckin thing about it... Can't fuckin wait!"

A confused gulp. Did he mean that? He thinks about how much of the thug's steamin juice he'd had to swallow these past few weeks; how much there's still to come in the months ahead. Fresh come in his mouth, every fuckin' day. The man marking his territory – his _property_.

"You're a good boy." Sike strokes his son's head with rough affection. He means it.

"You're the fuckin man, Dad. I can fuckin' take it... Whenever you want me to."

Sike chuckles with anticipation. "Gonna do me proud, huh?"

"Fuck yeah."

The muscle man's weapon is nearly at full charge now, despite not having been touched. The dirty talkin had done the trick nicely. He can wait no longer. He grabs the base of it and begins swiping Jack's face with dull heavy thwacks. Left, right, left, right. Blood surged. _Yeah_ , Sike thinks, it's a fuckin weapon! Time to do some damage…

"Sure you can take it, Son? Yer old man's in a hard fuckin' mood today."

Jack feels the fear again and tries not to flinch. His dad isn't giving him a choice. Just a warning.

"Yeah, course I can." He lightly opens his mouth and lets his tongue hang out to catch any moistness as it passes, and to encourage his dad's dick in where it truly belongs. Sike obliges and lets it pass over the youth's tongue a few times. A few drips of sticky juice linger. The familiar taste hotwires Jack's horny young mind and he stiffens in response.

"Let's find out, shall we?"

"Yeahhhh…" Jack stares in horny resignation as the man's mighty straight shaft takes aim. A massive hand grabs his chin with a firm grip and squeezes either side. Jack's jaw gives in to the pressure and drops open. He watches with disturbing excitement as the hot, hard meat pushes right in. _Here we fuckin' go again…_ He clamps his lips upon the rigid veiny tool. Fuck. The reality hits home all over again.

"There you fuckin go, son. Daddy's gonna show you how it's done. This is gonna be reeeal good…"

Sike clasps his boy's head on both sides and begins a steady, sensuous rhythm, pushing in nice n deep with each thrust. Jack's head is locked into place. He can't move an inch except to glance upwards along those awesome arms at the tower of strength above him, a menacing male shadow in the dim light, pumping that amazing monster cock in and out, in and out. Muscles flexing, deep grunts of satisfaction. Their eyes meet in the dim morning light.

"Fuck yeahhhh. 'S feelin real nice, kiddo. You likin that? Your old man fuckin your face?"

Trapped and unable to speak, Jack moans his agreement. His tough-nut dad is really fuckin' using him.

"Yeahhh. You know just how fuckin massive it is now, don'tcha? Let's see how fuckin deep you can take it."

The man leans up and forward to get a better downward angle. His grip on the boy's head tightens as his thrusts increase in depth and intensity. He begins to channel his substantial aggression into the movement.

Jack feels the long plunging strokes bashing the back of his mouth and his gag reflex tries to kick in. He uses all his experience of the past few weeks to attempt to relax and let the invader search out his throat, but this is a new position with virtually no room to maneuvre. The monstrous male member plunges relentlessly on, the man's sweaty crotch coming up toward his face, the bristle of his wiry fuzz, swinging nutsack against his chin, hot meaty hands pushing tight against his head. Pounding claustrophobic heat and darkness. Ever harder. Ever deeper. He moans again. His face is gettin pulverized by the beast.

"Now you're really feelin it, aintcha? How fuckin good is that?" Sike chuckled.

Jack moans again, his mind on a knife edge: one side indescribable pleasure at the extreme intensity of it all, the other side sheer raving insanity. He wants to please his dad so much, but he's coming up against the limit of what he could handle. He can barely breathe. His dad is the fuckin bull alright.

Sike, oblivious to Jack's state of mind, has tapped into a rich seam of aggro and lust and is really going for it. He's getting exactly what he wanted. He slams the hard fleshy cylinder into his son's cute face over and over again, enjoying the ferocity of the assault and the boy's wide-eyed expression of confused desire and disbelief. The fierce infliction of his dad's pleasure.

"Fuckin take yer dad's dick, boy. Fuckin take it. You know how much you want it."

Jack's heart races. He's being facefucked like never before. He tries to nod again. Can't. _Oh yeahhhh... Want it... Want it... Please dad... Shoot yer load... Fuckin shoot it... Straight down my throat…_

"Your mouth was just made for my fuckin' prick, kid. Fuckin' made for it. Feels real good bein' in there, don't it?"

Jack moans in acknowledgement. It's true. He's just a kid, destined to take his tough-nut dad's brutal tool. And now he's also the young matador in the dusty arena... _Oh fuck. Oh fuck. No way out!_ The seconds ticked by into minutes. Jack's entire world is filled with the imprisoned straight man's sexual rage and the raw masculine power of his torturous sex. He begins to feel suffocated by the position he's in, breathing becoming more and more difficult. Fear slowly turns his horny submission inside out. _Please, Dad... Can't take much more…_ A blackness begins to descend: he's gonna pass out for sure. 

Approaching panic.

"That's the fuckin way, Son... Gonna shoot my fuckin load right down your throat. Fuck yeahhhhhhh... " Sike feels his come surge getting closer and closer. _Fuckin' ace!_. He thrusts with all his might.

Something snaps in Jack's desperate and confused skull. _No. Fuck this. Fuck this shit. I'm fuckin' straight. FUCKIN' STRAIGHT!_ The bull-dick is gonna destroy him. Sheer survival instinct kicks in and all other reasoning vanishes. He vainly tries to push Sike off of him, but can't. Too heavy. _Gotta get out. Gotta fuckin'... Get out of this…_

The sudden act of rebellion takes the man completely by surprise. _What the fuck?_ A small part of him thinks it's funny... Shows the kid is still putting up a bit of a fight, which is kinda sexy; a little bit of resistance gives things a nice raw edge. However, the greater part of him is fucking furious at the boy's bad timing, just as he was getting ready to fuckin' shoot the juice. He grabs the young forearms and whacks them back hard against the low headboard.

"What the fuck do you think you're doin'? Don't fuckin' fight me, son. Don't you fuckin' fight me."

Jack, his dad's huge dick still rammed firmly in his throat, continues to struggle in his full on panic attack. The bull clambers over the matador and it's yard-long shaft finds the boy's virgin hole. Impossible and terrifying. Fear fills his crazed young head. _It's gonna fuckin kill me…_

"I said don't fuckin' fight me. Are you fuckin' deaf?" Sike holds Jack's head and hands in lockdown as the boy tries to work himself free, his vicious low whisper matching the aggression with which he'd been fucking moments before. Yet the message just isn't getting through; the boy is lost in his own nightmare, seemingly unreachable.

"Right. I ain't fuckin' havin' this. Ain't fuckin havin' it." Sike is damn angry now. That his near climax is having to wait is bad enough; that he is being ignored is ten times worse. He contemplates knocking some sense into his son, but decides instead to withdraw his meat and get off the bed before he does something he might regret. 

_Count to fuckin' ten, man…_

He stamds, watching, thinking of what punishment will be appropriate.

Jack gasps for breath but stays horizontal, staring at the bleak grey ceiling, shaking. The fearful dream releases him from its grip, and he swims back into reality. _What happened? What the fuck have I done? Shit!_ The last thing he remembers is his dad telling him his mouth was made for...

"Get up. Now." The menacing tone chills the boy to the bone. He wants to try and explain but can't speak. His brain seems to have come unstuck. What the fuck was he gonna do?

"Don't make me even angrier, Son…"

Jack unsteadily gets out of his bed and stands, naked, facing up to the tough guy a bare few feet away. He blinks stupidly. The skinhead muscle man is cracking his knuckles and glaring at him. _He looks seriously pissed off_ , thinks Jack. The sinking realization of what's happening strikes home. _You fuckin idiot, Jack. You complete fuckwit._

"So you wanna fight me? Yeah? Yeah?!" The man punches the fist of his left hand into the palm of the right, making a loud thwack. Tattooed muscles threatening. His nostrils, flared.

The answer was a resounding _no_ , but Jack still can't speak. He's terrified and frozen to the spot. The bull isn't gonna fuck him; it's just gonna tear him to pieces. He simply shakes his head slowly. Sike's eyes narrow.

"No, you fuckin' do, don'tcha? Tell you what, I'll give you a head start. C'mon, hit me." The man opened his arms in invitation, gesturing with his fingers for Jack to do it. "C'mon, Son. Think you're hard enough, huh?"

Jack stares disbelievingly, the tension cutting into his spine. His moment of madness had got him into deep, deep trouble. This is all wrong... It shouldn't be like this. Should be on his knees... Should have been a good boy. The still air in the room is heavy and stifling; the grey walls seemed to be closing in on him. Sweat beads his forehead. He shakes his head again.

"I said fuckin' hit me. _FUCKIN'. HIT ME._ You do what I fuckin' tell you, Son!!"

His self-preservation instinct is to run, but of course, there's nowhere to run to. Jack feels the need to obey his dad suddenly kick in, even though what he's being asked to do makes no sense. A crazy rush of adrenaline to his head. _Just do what he fuckin' says, Jack…_ He takes a quick step forward and throws his hardest punch at the man's stomach. _Like hitting a fuckin brick wall!_ The man adjusts his balance slightly, but otherwise doesn't flinch. Drawing ragged breaths, Jack does it again. And again, using his dad's hard body like a punching bag. No fucking reaction. He growls out loud his frustration with himself for being too weak. Punches again.

Sike watches him with fascination, knowing how unfair the match is, the white heat of his temper subsiding slightly. _Hmmmmm. My boy can certainly pack a fair punch for his size and age, but if he'd really wanted to do damage he would have aimed for the face or the nuts…_ He's clearly just doing what he was told, knowing full well which side his bread was buttered on. The dad feels a surge of affection for the angry young man: his wannabe thug of a son, making a show of defending his straight honor. Still, this little game isn't over yet. The kid needs to be taught a lesson.

Without warning, the angry dad goes on the counterattack, catching the boy's punching arm and twisting it right around so that Jack yelps in pain and freezes again. Sike hugs him close from behind, his left forearm crushingly tight against the lad's smooth chest. Jack grimaces at the contortion and the man speaks low, slow and quiet into his ear, soothing and threatening in equal measure.

"Now. Listen to me, Son. I hope you realize how generous I'm bein' here... I've killed a few people in my time, with my bare hands. People who deserved it. You don't deserve it in the slightest. You're a fuckin' find in this place. Made me really fuckin happy. Happier than I've been in a long time... But... there may be days when I'm errr... how shall I put it... less rational, yeah? So… I guess what I'm sayin is, best not make me angry too often, okay? You might just catch me on the wrong day." He pauses.

Jack feels the man's breath on his neck, the firm body pressed into his, the warm chest fuzz tickling his back, the press of male sex against his exposed buttocks. Despite the pain and the fear, the closeness intoxicates him. His dad still cares about him, alright. Young meat stirs.

"You understand me?" A nod from the boy. "We still got ourselves a deal then, right?" 

Another nod.

Jack's aching arm is released, his body likewise.

"Turn around."

They stand, Jack's eye level just below the man's thick scarred neck, staring at his upper pectorals. He looks up into his dad's eyes, trying his best to look calm and not betray the torrent of violent emotion in his head. He wants the man to hold him close again... His arm hurts, but all things considered he's lucky to still be in one piece. Sike grips his son's chin and yanks his face toward him as he lowers his. His expression is deadly serious.

"I know you're fuckin' straight, Son; so am I. This is just the way things are gonna be in here. I'm yer dad, you're my son; I look after you, you look after me. Simple."

Jack nods slightly in the man's vice-like grip. The man's gray-blue eyes glint darkly.

"And y'know what? I'm gonna fuck you again. Just like I promised you. Tonight. I'd do it now, but there ain't enough time. You know how I like to take me time…"

A dry swallow from the lad. No fuckin word of a lie.

"And y'know what? If it hurts, tough. You're not gonna complain about a fuckin thing. Not one single fuckin thing, y'hear me? In fact, you're gonna tell me how much you fuckin' like it, how good it feels to have your dad's massive straight dick up there. Yeah? And you're gonna fuckin beg me for more when we're done too. You got that?"

Sike likes these mind games, entrenching his control over the boy. He wants to keep him at the limit of what he can handle; wants to teach him that a bit of pain endurance will make him more of a man in the long run. Same with their work-outs. It was the kind of lesson he'd had to learn when he was young. Hadn't enjoyed it at the time, but it had toughened him up alright.

Shards of uneasy excitement scatter through Jack's body as he stared into his dad's eyes and heard what was going to happen. He was gonna get shafted again. Tonight. _Oh fuck!_

"Gotcha dad. 'll do it right this time. Promise."

Sike lets him go at last. "Good boy. That's what I fuckin' want to hear. You gonna fuckin' make it up to me, yeah?"

"Yeah." Jack looks down, relieved, wanting to apologise properly for his bad behaviour, but unable to find the words. He sees his dad's dangling monster cock below, still waiting there for him. _Look at that fuckin thing, Jack. Your dad's very own fuckin' bull-dick. That's gonna be slidin right up inside you later._

_Unreal._

"So now you're gonna show me some respect... Yeah?"

"Yeahhh." A pause.

"Well, what you waitin' for?" Sike's irritation was plain to hear. He was eager to unload after the delay. "Fuckin get to work. Everyone'll be gettin up soon."

Jack drops gladly to his knees. His rightful place. In his troubled mind, his long lost father had long been his ultimate hero. Now I've found him, thinks Jack. _Tough, brutal, unpredictable... Sure. A real fuckin man... Definitely. Just like I had always imagined he would be... Approval has to be earned. That's only right._

The thick, mature sex hangs there before his awed face: tantalizing, impossibly real, head mostly revealed as the man's arousal resumes with gusto. Jack licks his dry lips and moistens his tongue, with an inward shudder of recognition that this was what he truly wants: to have his father's king-size meat unload in him. His straight instincts sulk, subdued by the undeniable. 

_It's okay, Jack, any straight boy would want this if they'd only fuckin admit it, if they only had their strong, hard dad ready to feed it to em... You're so fuckin lucky. You're actually fuckin' gettin it._

His tongue touches the shiny purple head andhe begins to lick steadily and assuredly all around it. A sliver of salty sweetness from the man's gaping pisshole sets his saliva flowing. He feels like a dog. The ripe smell of crotch sweat again fills his senses. He gazes up past the curved fuzzy pecs to his dad's moody bristled face. Sike's looking down at him intently. Totally into the moment with his boy.

"You like lickin yer dad's big straight dick, don'tcha, Son?"

"Fuck yeahhh. Fuckin' tasty."

"Gettin' it hard for your old man... And doin' what yer fuckin' told."

The boy nods eagerly, eyes still locked upwards. His dad knows what this is all about. The horny submission is back in Jack's bloodstream, stronger than ever. He reaches up to gently caress the large dangling nutsack, awestruck. All that fuckin cum...

Sike feels the visceral headrush of domination empowering him once more. His temporarily denied meat is surging again. _Yeahhhh…_ There's a look in his son's eyes he can't quite fathom.

"You want a fuckin' mouthload from it, don'tcha? You want me to fuckin fill you up…"

"Yeahhh. Fuckin do... Let me suck it for you, dad... I'll make sure I do it right this time…" Jack is completely in his element now; this is where he belongs, at his dad's feet. Right now, he doesn't care who might be watching or listening. He desperately wants the big guy to know he won't screw up again, that he really can take whatever he was given.

Sike enjoys watching his straight son begging for it. That little incident had pushed things along nicely, it seems.

"Okay, if you want it bad enough…" Barest hint of a grin. "But I'm gonna be in control, just like before. You gotta learn to fuckin' take what your old man wants to give ya…"

Jack nods, remorsefully.

"Open your mouth and be grateful, then."

Jack does, and the long veiny weapon duly penetrates him, inch by fuckin' inch. A real man's dick; his own dad's dick. Total fuckin' straight male domination. _This is gonna make it all better, I knew it will._ He feels it sliding smoothly against his soft young lips, stretching them wide. Pulsing and hardening more as it goes. Sike watches with satisfaction the renewed violation.

"Ahhhh that feels fuckin' nice, Son. Don't it feel fuckin nice?" Jack moans and nods. He can't believe how good it is this time. Somehow, his dad had hammered his mind into a new shape, a new way of thinking.

Sike takes a firm hold of the back of Jack's head and starts up the perfect rhythm. _Oh yeahhh_ , thinks Jack. _Dad's really fuckin givin it to me now…_ The rigid tool slides back and forth, smooth, slick and deliberate. _Really fuckin' givin it to me…_ The pumping fuzzy crotch fills his vision, firm legs planted either side, vast thigh muscles workin, stomach flexin; animal grunts from above. _Really fuckin givin it to me. Oh yeahhhh…_ His dick stands painfully to attention and he rubs it gently. _Fuuuuuuck!_

Waves of primal pleasure spread from the man's sweaty, meaty groin, rippling and intensifying. _Yeahhhh. You're the fuckin man, Sike. You're his dad, alright!_ He can see and feel the boy's extra willingness to please. _Too fuckin right. Had to teach you a fuckin' lesson, Son._

"Fuck yeahhh. You're takin' it good now, ain'tcha? This ain't gonna take long, kiddo. I'm fuckin fired up." He could try to draw it out, but he knows time isn't on their side. His thrusts become more and more urgent, pounding into the boy's skull, drawing the ecstatic climax near.

Jack feels the pace heating up and steels himself to withstand the onslaught. _Yeahhh, Dad, I can take it. I can take it. I can fuckin' take it. I know I deserve everything I'm getting…_ His lips clasp as tightly as they can to the mighty tool, willing maximum pleasure into it as it slams in repeatedly, the head bashing into his tender throat.

It all feels so much more natural in this position, so much easier to take: no hint of the suffocating panic which had kicked in earlier, just awesome recognition of his dad's muscular superiority and mounting excitement as the force-feeding ritual heads toward its inevitable frenzied conclusion. _Fuckin' give it to me, Dad. You're the fuckin best…_ He abandons his own meat to grip the massive legs he's kneeling at. _Dad's pleasure is all that matters…_

"Yeah, fuckin' take that motherfucker, boy. Fuckin' take it. Fuckin'... Take it... 'm gettin close." Sike gazes down with fierce delight at the punishment he's inflicting with his sexy weapon. He's mesmerised by the sight. He grits his teeth, repeating the spell he'd cast, over and over. "Fuckin... Take it…"

The final straight. Jack had learned to recognize the imminent warning signs: more and more prejizz leaking out, the collosal cock swelling to ultra firmness, the aggression and frequency of his dad's grunts going into overdrive... _Fuck yeahhhh. Fuckin let me have it, Dad!_

"Oh yeahhhh. It's comin. Get ready for it, Son. Gonna fuckin feed ya. Gonna... Fuckin'... Shoot…"

The speed, the force, the sweat... Jack is delirious with pride at having matched up to his dad's angry lust. _Managed to fuckin take it this time, dintcha? You're a fuckin' trooper, Jack. Time for yer reward…_

"Yeahhhh.... Fuuuuck. NNNNGGGGHHHHHHHHAAAHH"

Sike feels his tightened nuts begin to unload. In the grip of absolute pleasure, he firmly holds the back of his son's head, his eyes narrowing as the fantastic sensation spreads through his tense body. His vigorously thrusting manhood begins to spew out the hot juice. He watches with greedy desire the boy's flushed features, young eyes glazing with delight as the come is unloaded, the handsome youth being forced to receive his dad's fuckin' seed. Those insistent thrusts, still deep, become slo-mo, the shaft streaked with come; visual proof of the ritual's dirty and vital climax. _Swallow it all up, Son... Fuck yeahhhhhh!_

"There you go, Son. Yer dad's fuckin load. Just the way you fuckin wanted it…"

Jack nods enthusiastically. In light of what had happened, this feels as significant as the very first time. The man's raw nutjuice is still spilling out into him from the massive, punishing cock.

"Fuckin tasty, isn't it?" Sike grins confidently.

 _Yeahhh_ , thinks Jack. _Fuckin' is._ Some had slid down his battered throat immediately, whilst the rest is now coating the inside of his mouth... Hot spunk there in his mouth from his dad's king-size straight meat. His complete submission to it. Feels like nothing else ever will.

Sike rubs the lad's short dark hair affectionately, his bond with the lad renewed and strengthened. He feels the young tongue slidin gently over his meat, savoring his father's come. _Never knew how much you wanted it, huh, Son?_ But then the same is true for him. Things had subtly shifted these past two weeks. His goal now is to make the boy fuckin' worship his bad dad's straight dick, to make pleasuring it more than just a daily duty. Respect isn't gonna be enough. No reason.

Jack gazes up longingly at him for more, mouth still packed full, a few last drops of come leaking out onto the back of his tongue. The buzzing salty-sweet taste overpowers him, the smell mixing headily with that of the man's pungent crotch sweat. He gratefully swallows most of the seed down. _Fuckin' result!_

"Like I said, Son, you make me really fuckin' happy... You just keep takin' it like that, and I promise I'll take care of you. We make the best fuckin' team, you and me."

The young man nods once more. _Too fuckin' right._ He feels warm inside. Wanted. Best of all, he remembers suddenly, the man is gonna fuck him again tonight... Fuck him with this big motherfuckin' dick of his. Unbelievable. He lets his tongue slide over it again, feeling the heavy weight of it still there in his mouth. _Oh yeahhhh... The real fuckin deal. My mean 'n muscly dad pushing it right up inside me... Workin that tight hole of mine real fuckin' good... Screwing it to perfection... Fuck yeahhhh._ This is such fucked up horny shit. Him, in prison, getting his rear end pounded by a well-hard fuckin' straight bloke, just like Jack is his horny fuckin bitch... Who'd have fuckin' thought it? And as if that isn't enough, he's gonna have to tell his dad exactly how good it feels whilst they were fuckin doin it... _Mmmmmmm…_

Sparks of aching anticipation zip around Jack's mind, forging new pathways of desire. Hard young meat twitches down below. The dreamy image of the powerful mature bull fuckin' the sleek younger one returned unbidden... _Might making right._

_It's gonna be so fuckin' good. So. Fuckin'. Good._

Sike grins at him. _Yeah. Things are definitely headin' in the right direction…_

  


  


  
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	6. Forbidden Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The officer that's been harassing Jack finally makes his move. Jack finds a new cock to worship.

  


  


"Kenton!"

Jack looks over to the uniformed figure gesturing him to come over. _Shit._ Everyone is getting changed into their athletic attire and nobody pays any attention. He reluctantly pads over in his bare feet, bare chested, jeans undone at the top.

"Yeah?"

The burly officer moves right up to him and speaks quietly into his ear. "I think it's about time we continued our little chat, don't you? You can wait here after the game. Enjoy your free time." Jack, all outward calm and inward turmoil, turns to go as fast as is nonchalantly possible. "Oh, and Kenton?"

"Yeah?"

"It's 'Yeah, _SIR_ '. Don't fuckin' forget it." The man stares daggers at him. A pause.

"Sir," says Jack.

The officer raises an eyebrow and nods the boy to continue getting changed.

 _What shit fuckin' timing. Of all the days, this one…_ He's still emotionally charged up from stuff this morning and vivid imaginings of what was to come tonight, and now that stupid cunt had thrown a spanner into the works. Well, whatever it is the fucker wants, Jack will just have to grit his teeth and deal with it. No point kickin up a fuss: too risky.

Preoccupied, he doesn't play quite as fluently as usual, though it's still good enough for him to score. The weather is finally starting to turn; a storm brewing out west somewhere, gleaming towers of cloud with dark underbellies looming over the barbed wire. Muggy. They all sweat like leaky faucets. He sees the man standing with arms folded and wearing a mocking grin and curses him under his breath.

The final whistle. None of the usual high for Jack, just a despondent trudge. One of his team nudged him.

"Hey. Cheer up, dude. Probably already happened, whatever it is!"

Jack fakes a grin, hollow inside. Says nothing.

All too soon, the last of his football friends are trooping out the door, Jack being deliberately slow putting his sneakers back on. He knows the officer was standing nearby, and there was another figure with him.

"Come on Kenton, ain't got all fuckin' day."

Jack puts his jockstrap and shorts away and walks over. The man standing next to his tormentor he's seen around, but not paid any attention to: 30 something, square-jaw, hint of stubble, greeny grey eyes, dark blond hair, impassive expression, solid sporty-looking guy with bulging muscles, not chunky like the other fella; somewhat better looking than the fucker he was standing next to, Jack grudgingly has to admit. Not that that was relevant. Still a screw. Not to be trusted.

"Cuff him Harry. We're headin down to three."

"Right."

Jack has no idea what that signifies. The officer called Harry cuffs Jack's wrists behind him and leads him out through a different door to a quiet corridor. From here Jack gets completely lost in unfamiliar territory: various locked doors, harsh fluorescent lighting, institutionalized fear. He hadn't realized just how huge this fuckin' place is. All he knows is that they descended at least three levels. They pass a few other officers along the way. Friendly greetings, nothing more. No questions about where Jack was being taken. _Must be legit_ , he thinks – _or worse, this is par for the course…_

They finally come to a series of doors on the left hand side of a relatively dimly-lit corridor. At one marked IR42 they stop and the officer in charge unlocks it, goes in and flicks on a strip light which buzzes and flickers slightly. The other one nudges Jack in. Jack hears the door being locked behind him.

A claustrophobic windowless room about twice the size of his cell, unfurnished except for a small wooden desk, behind which are several plastic chairs and in front of which was another. Jack nervously rubs his teeth with his tongue, trying to get the saliva flowing in his dry mouth. He yearns for Sike to be there with him.

"Siddown," says the chunky fucker.

The boy, arms still cuffed behind, sits uncomfortably on the chair. The two uniformed men seat themselves behind the desk, the one called Harry taking out a notebook and pen. Jack wonders if maybe this won't be quite as bad as he'd built it up to be. The presence of the younger man with his pen and paper seems slightly more reassuring. Standard procedure. Questions he could fuckin deal with. _Ain't tellin the fuckers nothin, Dad; well, nothin useful…_

The burly officer eyes his captive. Cute young fucker. He'd been waiting all week for this, but best to do things above board, with two of em present. Not only that, but he was showing Harry the ropes. Gettin' him to join in would be a bit of a challenge, but everyone had to start somewhere. Harry had only been on the job a few days.

"So, Kenton. What is it now, two weeks?"

"Yeah."

"...'Sir'..."

" _Sir_." A disdainful look from the boy.

"Now, I think you might remember our previous conversation?" A nod. "Good. So you know why we're havin' this little chat then?"

"Not really... Sir." Jack deliberately delayed the last word to indicate his contempt for the man. Being a bit cocky is the best way to overcome the fear. He stares him down. Ugly, squashed, rough face, tight gelled hair; neck as thick as his head; hulking body squeezed into the familiar uniform. _Shoulda been a club doorman, dude. Arrogant assholes, most of 'em. You'd fit right in._

A pause. "Riiiight... Well, let's just run over the details again shall we?"

Jack realizes with a sinking certainty that of course this means the other one is going to find out what the other man knows, presuming he didn't tell him already. _Is this gonna be written up in some official kind of report? Shit._

_Fuck 'em, Jack. Don't stress about what's outta your control…_

He says nothing.

"I've got an interest in Sike's activities, you might say. We know he organizes deliveries and shit." _And he's a right cocky fucker too_ , thinks the ugly man. "So... You must have seen a few things by now, yeah? Give me a little bit of the lowdown and, y'never know, I might think about makin your life easier…"

This is a completely fake line of questioning, mainly for Harry's benefit. The bent officer knew full well from the Warden that Sike has important connections of some kind and was therefore privileged. Nothing Jack could tell him would make any difference. If ever anything comes to light for any reason, it will be swept under the rug as quickly as possible. ...But no matter, it would give him leverage here.

Jack has no intention of revealing anything, of course. He isn't gonna rat out his thug of a dad; he knows he's getting looked after.

"Ain't seen nothin, sir. If there's anything goin' on, it must be when I'm asleep or somewhere else."

The man stares at him coldly, knowing the boy's lying, and feels a raw stab of jealousy that Sike and this cute kid had come to such a mutually beneficial arrangement. Sike had crossed him once before, some years ago; nothing major, but his pride had suffered. Payback has been a long time coming. Harry scribbled away.

"Nothing unusual at all?"

"Nothin', sir."

'" see... Well, that's all very interesting, Kenton, because I know for a fact that Sike has made it known you're not to be messed with, which is pretty good going considering what happened to the last one in there with him." The man twists the imaginary knife in a gruesome gesture with a nasty grin.

Jack stares, trying not to look surprised. _What the fuck? This is news to me._ He tries to look calm. _You're fuckin' bluffing, dude…_ But then, knowing Sike's temper and what had happened this morning, it sounds entirely plausible. He remembers what he'd been told: seriously lucky or seriously unlucky. 

"I also know for a fact that you're doing sexual favours for him, cause I've fuckin' seen ya."

Harry looks up from his pad. _Huh?_ He stared at the lad with a mixture of fascination and disgust. In his tabloid-info world, queers were just about okay as long as they were identifiably different and, preferably, somewhere else. This one looked much too fuckin' normal.

Jack's hackles rise, despite the situation. He wasn't going down without a fight, not with someone else writing it all down.

"Like I told you before, I'm fuckin straight, okay? He forced me to do it. And I ain't gonna argue with him, am I?" The events of the early morning flash through his mind and he gives a heartfelt laugh of derision. "I'd be fuckin dead meat."

Jack thought he sounded pretty convincing. The buzz of the light filled the claustrophobic room as they stared one another out. He sniffed away an itch on his face, unable to scratch.

"Uh-huh... So, errrrr… jackin' yourself off while he shoves his hard meat in your mouth is what a straight man would do, is it?"

Jack has to lie, but having had plenty of time to think about an answer to this question if it came up his reply is quick and to the point. "I was fuckin' trying to think about somethin else! Anything to take me fuckin' mind off it. It ain't fuckin easy!"

The interrogating officer eyes him suspiciously and idly drummed his meaty fingers on the desk. It was almost possible that was true... Still, it didn't really change matters much.

Harry, meanwhile, was confused; having just assumed the boy was a queer, it now seems as if he isn't. Certainly doesn't look or sound like one, for sure. He had no idea what was going on. The boy clearly hadn't denied it, but from what Harry'd seen in his short time working here (and from what he'd heard too), Sike is a fuckin' hard nut with a bit of a crazy streak. Everyone is wary of him. There was no way was he a fuckin bender... So why? Makes no sense. Except what... Frustration? Punishment?

"So all that stuff about it bein fuckin tasty?"

Jack scowls at his interrogator. _You're fuckin scum, asshole…_

"I've fuckin learnt to act. It's what he wants to hear. He wants me to fuckin beg for it like some dirty bitch... Gives him a kick." That much is true. What's also true is that Jack gets just as big a kick from his dad's intimidation and domination, and even now is getting a little hard just thinking about having to submit to that king-size meat... _That fat, juicy dick dangling in front of my face... Gonna make it feel reeeeal good for ya, Dad. Fuck yeahhhh…_

He snaps out of it. 

Focus, focus...

The buzz hangs in the air above. Harry's pen pauses in his hand, the unwanted image lingering too long in his head. The interrogating officer fixes Jack again with his unfriendly stare. The trap closes in.

"Okay." He leans forward over the desk. "So why haven't you made a complaint or asked to be moved?"

Jack had stupidly not considered this fairly obvious line of inquiry. He stares into the oncoming headlights. _Shit._ He blinks, twice. Prickles of fear send goosebumps up his neck.

"Surely if what you're sayin' is true, you'd want something done about it, hmmm?"

Jack exploded with nervous anger. "I don't fuckin know how things work here, do I? Only fuckin been here a few weeks."

"Alright, alright." The man sits back again and raises his hands in mock defense. "Keep your fuckin' hair on, son... What there is of it." A wry grin. "I hear what yer sayin'. It's okay. Do you want to be moved somewhere else?"

The man deliberately makes it sound like he's being helpful, but of course he's being nothing of the sort. It was his way of testing the boy's story, which he rightly suspects isn't legit. The tainted offer echoed around Jack's skull, taunting him. Answering 'yes' is out of the question; answering 'no' would condemn him in the eyes of the two officers. He curses his inability to think the logic of his argument through far enough. _Fuck fuck fuck._ He does the only thing possible and says nothing. The cuffs chafe his wrist.

The buzz is broken by the scrape of the burly officer's chair as he stands up. He walks round to stand near Jack and stands, arms folded, hulking frame looming menacingly over the seated teenager. His words are quiet and deliberate. "I'd call that a 'no', wouldn't you, Harry?" He turns to his inexperienced colleague, who catches his glance and gives a quick nod of agreement. "And if it's a 'no', that means you're fuckin lying to me Kenton."

"I ain't fuckin' lying to you, sir." The lad tries to keep the fear from his voice, and refuses to look at him, loathing of the man welling deep within his gut. The proximity is unnerving and he remembers the sudden punch in the changing room. More goosebumps. The summer warmth didn't make it this far down underground, it seemed.

"Right Kenton, you explain to me why a straight lad wants to stay in a cell where he's bein forced to give head and swallow the juice. This had better be good."

Jack was thinking frantically. What could he say? The seconds ticked uncomfortably past. He shook his head as if imagining the consequences. "If I move he'll fuckin kill me first chance he gets. I know he will."

Harry could see that something didn't add up here, but he felt a little sorry for the boy all the same. Still, the adrenaline is flowing nicely now, and he feels like something is gonna kick off. No one else is gonna know if they just had a little rough fun with him down here, would they? He waits to see what his training officer would do. Show him the acceptable limits...

"Nahhh. We could move you properly if it really mattered, and you know it. I think you just don't wanna go, do you Kenton? And the reason you don't wanna go is…" He leaned down, voice low and accusing. "...cause you're enjoying what he's doing to you."

Jack can't help himself. The rage in his head is too much. "You don't know what the fuck you're talkin about, sir."

The officer's anger boils over at this and he shoves Jack violently sideways with a growl. Unable to put his hands out to stop himself, the boy falls and lands awkwardly on the cold floor, bruising his right shoulder. It's the same arm which had been twisted this morning by Sike. He yelped loudly and muttered, "Aaghh. Fuck. Y'fuckin cunt! I'll fuckin report you!" All too aware of his vulnerability, the boy forces himself up to a sitting position and glares up at the bullying officer whose mean face is screwed up with ferocious intent. He points a finger at the boy on the floor.

"Don't you ever fuckin speak to an officer like that again, Kenton. Ever. You hear me? You fuckin' treat us with respect." He aggressively kicks away the chair toward the door, where it clatters to a halt on its side.

Jack grimaces as he tries to stand up, his head swimming. His teeth were still gritted. "Sir."

Harry stood up the moment the lad hit the floor, thinking he ought to get involved. His training officer had just asked him to write statements down and do whatever he was asked to do, but this stuff had to be off the record surely? He walks around and stands leaning against the front of the desk, arms folded. Keen to show willing, but wondering just where this was going...

"Think you need to learn some respect, yeah?"

Jack has just about managed to get up, and stands, slightly unfocused, the hated authority figure at close range. His body is tense. "Not lyin', sir. Really ain't."

The officer spits in Jack's face. He addresses his sidekick with a sneer. "Y'hear that Harry? 'Not lyin'... He must think we're fuckin' idiots?" He slyly winks at the trainee officer and turns back to his captive. "Do you think we're fuckin idiots, Kenton?"

"No, sir. I'm just…" The boy's mumble trails off as he realizes this exchange will get him nowhere. The spit runs down his cheek to his chin. His shoulder fucking hurts. _Fuck it, let's just get this over as quickly as possible…_

"Nahhhh, I think you fuckin' do. You think you can spout any old bullshit and we'll just fall for it, hmmm? I warned you before never to lie to me again, Kenton, didn't I? You're gonna fuckin pay the price for it now. Admit it, you enjoy suckin the meat." The officer's eyes blaze.

The strip light flickers slightly. Jack's breaths come loud and heavy in the small room. He isn't gonna give this cunt the satisfaction. "I just do what I'm told, sir." Jack knows exactly where this is all going. He'd guessed it would all along.

"And you like doin what yer told…"

"I like not gettin' my head kicked in... Sir"

The ugly man glares at his stubborn captive. Why wouldn't he just fuckin admit it? He felt the fury flare again. "You fuckin' want it more than you're letting on, Kenton. And I'm gonna prove it. Get on yer fuckin knees."

Jack, his eyes fixed on the uniformed figure, shakes his head slowly, even though he knows resistance is futile. His pride is at stake.

"On... your fuckin'... knees."

Jack glances at the other officer, who's watching his colleague with a slightly stunned expression. Harry returns the glance, and in that instant Jack immediately sensed the junior officer's alarm and uncertainty. _You're not a fuckin homo, are ya? Why don't you fuckin stop this?_ But Harry's conscience crumbles; he knows which side he has to be on here. He looks back at his training officer and keeps quiet.

"I won't say it again, Kenton…"

Jack caves in, carefully lowering himself to his knees. The room seems to swim slightly. _Come on then, you chunky fucker, show us what you got._

Harry watches. _Surely this is just bluffing? ...No, it fucking isn't... Shit…_ The burly officer's unzipping himself and reaching inside for his short, fat cock. Still soft, deliberately so; the man had the sense to control his excitement.

 _Not as big as Sike, are ya?_ Despite his disgust, Jack grins inwardly. He can fucking deal with this; he'd had plenty of practice these past couple of weeks. He looks up and away from the man's pumping fist.

"You do know I'll fuckin' report you for this, don'tcha?"

The man sneers at him. "You can fuckin' try! But I'm telling you now, the Warden don't give a shit as long as everything in here runs smoothly, so you'll be wasting your time. Besides, it'd be terrible if word got out about you and Sike, wouldn't it?" He stares down, smug and threatening. "Am I making myself clear?"

The buzz of the light again fills the silence. Jack glares at him, eyes narrowed. There was no way round that one. The fucker had him. "Yes... Sir."

 _Definitely a fuckin homo, no doubt about it_ , thinks Jack... But wary of further violence, he keeps this to himself. He notices Harry still looking decidedly uncomfortable. _Really not into this shit, is he? Hmmmm…_ Jack realizes he might have a little power game of his own to play, after all.

"Good. Glad we uh... understand each other, Kenton. So, how'd you like a fuckin taste of this then, huh? Another tool to get your pretty lips around. You want a piece of this?"

Harry's staring with his mouth hanging slightly open. He shifts awkwardly against the desk and folds his arms tighter. _Is this really happening?_ His training officer is standing there jerking his hardening meat just a foot away from the con's face.

Jack isn't giving in just yet. "Like I fuckin told you. I'll do it if I ain't got a fuckin' choice... Sir." The words come out with undisguised venom, and then the grenade... "No way I'm suckin both o ya though."

Red rag to a bull. 

"Oh yeah? You will if I fuckin make you, Kenton."

 _Ha_ , thinks Jack. _The idiot fell for it. Let's make sure though…_

"No I fuckin won't. He doesn't want to…" a quick glance at Harry "...and you can't fucking make me."

Harry nervously shifts his balance again. The boy is spot on. This all went very fucking weird very fucking fast. Just a little bit of rough treatment was what he'd been led to expect here; nothin out of the ordinary. He'd been kinda looking forward to it. But this shit is totally crossing the line. Trouble is, he really, really needs this job and is still effectively in his probation period. Things were so tough out there at the moment. Wife, preteen and baby to support... Mortgage to pay... He keeps his silence.

"We'll see about that... Now stop fuckin talkin and open that mouth of yours." Jack does as he's told and the hulking brute steps up to him, his fat stubby meat eager for action. "What yer waitin for, you little cunt? Suck my fuckin prick!"

Jack leans forward and cautiously begins to service the officer's weapon; a slight involuntary shudder as his tongue makes contact with it. It's fat alright, and he has to stretch his jaw to accommodate, but it isn't very long compared to his dad's. Fuckin strange having a different piece of meat in his mouth. Tastes weird. He licks around the bulbous head, trying to suppress the urge to bite into it.

"Yeah, you fuckin like that, don't ya Kenton? Knew you would…" He hit Jack across the head. "Plenty around in this place who'd fuck your face if you asked 'em nicely enough; they're all a bit pussy starved, y'know, so you'd be right popular. Maybe I'll introduce you to some of 'em _personally_. Would you like that?"

The boy senses it isn't an empty threat. Another cold shiver ran through him. The man swiped at him again with rough disregard. Lights flashed in his peripheral vision.

"I said would you fuckin' like that, Kenton? I'm sure we could get a good half a dozen or so together one afternoon; they could take it in turns…"

This terrifying vision lodges in the Jack's skull. A shake of the head in denial. He doesn't look up.

"Oh I think you're fuckin' interested." He feels a surge of pleasure as the boy's tongue licks all around his bulging head. "You're really quite good at this, ain'tcha? Almost as good as you are scoring goals. Musta had plenty of practice lately. Heheheh." The officer grins at his own sadistic humor.

A clench of cuffed fists. He imagines his dad decking the fucker. Straight down...

"Bet you're good at takin it up the other end too, eh?"

Jack shakes his head again, more vigorously, and made a muffled noise of disagreement. He wasn't gonna agree to anything this cunt said if he could fuckin help it.

"Yeah, whatever. Hey, Harry, you should try some of this. He's a talented little cocksucker. Come here and give him a piece of yours."

Harry's staring at the action with disturbed fascination. The sight of the teenager being made to suck on the older man's tool was still freaking him out, but at the same time the aggressive domination of the scene was captivating. A straight boy taking the worst kind of punishment. He's slowly starting to see a few advantages to it now: nothing visible to explain away later, no awkward questions... Didn't mean he actually wanted to get involved though.

"Errrrr. No, thanks. That's, ummm… okay. You keep right on going."

Jack lets the fat prick fall out of his mouth and, despite knowing it will earn him trouble, taunts his captor. "Told ya he didn't fuckin want it." He allows himself a small grin of satisfaction.

The officer swipes the boy's head viciously once more. "Shut the fuck up, Kenton." The man reached down and gripped the boy's chin, squeezing hard so that Jack is forced to open up, and plugs his stiff urgent meat back in. "Harry, don't be such a fuckin' pussy. We're just teachin' the fucker a lesson. Now come over here and feed him your meat." The tone of the man's voice makes it clear that refusing is not an option.

Harry hesitates, his mouth suddenly very dry. He knows he's in no position to argue. He reluctantly unzips his slacks and reaches inside. Can't quite believe he's doing this, but he just can't risk losing the job... He pulls his meat out and begins tugging at it, thinking about a sexy brunette who he keeps seeing at the local bus-stop... His ideal type. Imagines forcing her to her knees... _Fuck no! That's bad. Shouldn't be rough with a girl like that._ He tries to maintain the division in his head between one of his safe straight fantasies and what's happening now, but just can't do it. In desperation, he gazes aggressively down at his prick and imagines it as a weapon. Just like he had once before... It begins to swell.

"Yeahhhhh. Bring that over here. Just take a look what Harry's got for you, Kenton."

Jack again lets the burly officer's tool slip from his lips and turns to witness the fit one's revealed sex coming to life in the man's hands. Soft, it was getting on for the length of his dad's, if not quite as thick. Smooth, sleek and cut. _One sexy motherfuckin dick you got there, dude…_ He feels slivers of bad desire and anticipation force their way into his tense body as he watches it harden and grow. Longer. Longer still. Even longer… He wets his tongue some more and swallows nervously. _Shit. That is gonna go deep. And the guy is being fuckin forced to feed it to me... What the fuck have you done, Jack? Wasn't one bad enough?_ He sees the wedding ring on the man's left hand... _Yeah, he's for real._

"Fuck. That's a biggun. I can't fuckin' swallow all that." _Keep actin the part, Jack. You don't want this, remember?_

The older officer grins, rubbing his throbbing member. _Yeahhhh. You're gonna fuckin choke on it…_ Harry's dick is bigger and better than he hoped it would be. He regards it enviously, wishing he was as well-endowed. _This is gonna be fuckin' good sport to watch._

"Only one way to find out, Kenton."

The boy stared with lustful confusion at the straight screw's monster cock, the man's tight shaved nuts lurking behind, nudging out from his zip fly. The heady promise of some serious facefucking set his heart thumping wildly. _Oh yeahhh... Gonna give you the best fuckin' blow job you ever had... Gonna make you want more... Fuck yeahhh._ His instincts howled in the darkness, fighting against his willing submission to the unnatural act. He silenced them with well-rehearsed logic: _It's not like you got a fuckin' choice in the matter, Jack. Prison rules. Power rules. Just go with the fuckin' flow... Doesn't mean you're a fuckin homo._

Harry looks on, as much a prisoner of circumstance as the con. _This is so fucked up_ , he thinks. _What the hell am I doing? It's fuckin insane!_ The light buzzes again. He feels like the light's buzzing inside his fucking head.

"See that Kenton? That's what queerboys like you dream about it, isn't it?"

Jack slowly shook his head and spoke through gritted teeth. "I'm. Fuckin. Straight." The officer strikes him again for his insolence.

"Yeahhhh right. Enough crap already. Now, open that mouth of yours…" Jack pauses. Another strike. Stars wheeled around. "Fuckin open it!" 

He finally does as he was told, his disbelieving eyes fixed again on the prize. Here it fuckin comes. "Fuckin feed it to him, Harry."

Harry holds his breath as he carefully slides the shiny head of his lengthy meat between the lad's waiting lips, unable to take his eyes off the impossible sight. _Oh shit. I'm fuckin doin it_ , he thinks. _I'm really fuckin doin it now. Fuckin look at that. The con's mouth's workin it, gentle smooth tongue teasing it in just the right way, coaxing it in. Oh shit man. Shit. My prick's in his mouth. Feels fuckin good. Yeahhhh. Fuckin good._

He pushes further in.

"Shiiiiiiit. He's takin it. He's fuckin takin it."

A sudden rush of blood brings his shaft to full strength. He begins to slowly thrust it in time with the boy's own eager sucking rhythm. _Mmmmmmmmm. That's so fucking good…_ He instinctively reaches down to stroke the youth's buzz-cut hair. _Man. That feels fucking nice. Fuuuucking niiiice._

Jack feels the thing stiffen up fully and the firm hand of the officer move to the back of his head to keep him in place. A rush of nerves fills his chest and his heart pounds furiously. He knows there's no turning back from this point. _Proper straight man facefuckin territory... Forcing it right in... You want that, don'tcha Jack?_ A bolt of shame shoots through his skull, but his dick jerks in acknowledgement. His arms ache behind his back. The taste is sweet and intense, overpoweringly so compared to the bullying officer's salty edge. He savors the man's unfathomable scent. Masculine. Virile.

"That's right, Harry, you fuckin show him. Teach him some respect with that meat of yours!" The burly officer continues to stroke himself at the undeniably hot sight of his inexperienced colleague's first leap into sexual domination.

"Yeahhhh... I'll fucking show 'im."

Harry knows full well he shouldn't be doing this, but once he's over the initial shock, he feels the forbidden thrill of violation and the carnal power of his manhood kick in. Waves of pleasure spiral up his taut body... _Almost forgotten how good this feels. Shit…_ His wife never does this much; she doesn't like the taste, nor taking it deep. He watches his long glistening prick as it sensuously slides in and out of the boy's mouth; soft lips making it feel so nice; keen tongue stimulating all the right places. Workin deeper now, a nice steady fucking rhythm. _Yeahhhh. Pushin it right in…_ Unnatural desire makes perfect sense to him in the heat of arousal.

"You likin' the taste of that cock, Kenton? Juicy enough for ya? Bet you can't wait to swallow his fuckin load…" The bully grinned, utterly turned on by the hot scene before him. Harry nods his agreement in a pleasure-filled trance and forces his sleek weapon in deeper, base instincts seeking gratification.

Jack moans in agreement. It seems as if the man's lengthy dick has something of a downward curve to it, and this, together with his recent daily practice, means it's searching out his throat with minimum effort. _Perfectly designed for facefuckin_ , thinks Jack. _...Yeahhhhhhhh. Never thought you'd be doing this to a guy, did ya? I'm gonna fuckin make you want this again and again…_ The dark uniform slacks fill his vision as the officer's thrusts become more insistent, Jack actively responding to the man's rightful needs with all the deepthroating talent and lubrication he can muster, his young lips clamped tight on the hard flesh.

"Takin it like a bitch, ain'tcha…?" Harry can feel the aggression surging within him. Jack again moans in agreement: that's exactly what a straight man would want.

"We can see how much you're enjoying it, Kenton. Don't you worry, there'll be plenty more of this comin' your way. I'm gonna organize something special for you very soon. You're gonna get your throat fucked raw…" The older man grins. He means every word.

Once more, the burly officer's threat stuns him with its sickeningly powerful simplicity. He pictures the interrogation room full of ruff 'n tuff straight men, surrounding him, pushing him to his knees, taking their long juicy dicks out from their jeans and uniform slacks, every single one demanding their meat be serviced to temporarily satisfy their sexual denial, every single one ready to coat his mouth and throat with streaks of hot seed. Hours of hard facefucking. And when his mouth gets tired and he begs 'em to stop? He knows enough about his fellow inmates already to know they'd just be a pack of fuckin' animals. It wouldn't stop. They'd take whatever they wanted... The terrifying fantasy lodges in his skull. _It's gonna happen one day, Jack. You know it will... He's gonna make it happen. That's what bad boys like you deserve…_ His dick jerks stiffly in fearful arousal, and his smothered instincts give a snarl of fury.

Before too long, Harry can feel himself getting ready to blow. He hasn't had any action at all the past five days, and the good sensations are just too good to resist. He's pumping the con's face good and deep now: serious punishment; the real fuckin deepthroat deal. _Feel the power of my fuckin dick, bitch... Gonna swallow my fuckin load, aren't you? Yeahhhhhhhhh._

"He likes that big prick of yours, Harry."

"Damn straight he does. Gonna fucking empty my nuts any minute."

"Hear that, Kenton? You're gonna get a fuckin mouthful real soon. Betcha can't wait huh?" He thwacks the boy's head again for a laugh.

Jack feels the blow but can't help himself from groaning in habitual anticipation at being dickfed. _Here comes the fuckin nutjuice... Yeahhhhh._ The long snaking dick with it's downward curve is making slick forceful strokes, the straight man fucking his face like it's a fuckin pussy, sliding back and forth with fantastic ease. Sweet precum teases his tastebuds, making him feel increasingly lightheaded, the submissive thrill all-consuming, hard male flesh showing him just who's in charge. He can hear the officer grunting with wordless pleasure as the inevitable climax approaches, breaths quickening, grip tightening. _Fuck yeah. Feed me your load, dude... Feed me your fuckin' load._

"Oh man, s'fuckin' good." Harry feels the sensations spiralling up his firm torso. Waves of pleasure and aggression demanding his repeated violation of the con's face. He was a fucking machine! He sees his long, smooth weapon plunging sexily in and out, and feels his nuts tighten in readiness. Jack senses the moment and glances up toward the handsome features of the officer on the verge of unloading his seed, wanting to see his expression.

"Oh shit. Oh yeahhhh. Oh fuckin hell yeahhhhh." Harry's voice was hard and desperate. The officer stared down in confused ecstasy into the wide-eyes of the young prisoner he was about to force-feed – sexy brutality – then one final deep thrust as his tool begins to shoot its pure masculine injection.

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiit…"

"Yeahhhh. That's the fuckin way, Harry. Fuckin feed it to im…" The burly officer rubs his dick with furious excitement.

Jack feels the tool pulsing in his mouth and stared into the blackness of the uniform in frantic wonder, his face pressed up against the zip of the man's dark trousers, mouth clamped determinedly on the firm tool, his own dick pushing against his jeans. _Total surrender._ The slick juggernaut of male sex is lodged deep and the straight man's substantial load was pumping right down his throat. _What. A. Fucking. Headfuck._

"Ahhhhhhh shiiiiiiit." The man breathed out heavily. "Yeah. He's good, man, he's good." Harry looks over at his colleague, face flushed, basking in his climax; the inevitable guilt about what he'd just done not yet ready to kick in. "Fucking good little cocksucker." He looked down again, a few small movements back and forth as the flow of cum slowed. So nice. 

Jack felt cum oozing on to the back of his tongue.

The older officer grinned back. A fuckin good show; this has worked out just right. He's eager to empty his nuts too.

"Yeah, pretty talented for a straight boy, ain't he?"

"Huh-Ha!"

"I think he probably wants another loada juice... What do you reckon, Harry?"

"Yeahhhh." Harry let the boy's head go finally and the sensitive head of his long slick dick retreated slowly to the lad's reddened lips, leaving a trail of cum across the lad's tongue as it did. The last of the sticky seed oozed out.

"Fuckin' lick that up, Kenton." The hard officer watches with satisfaction as the boy does as he's told.

Harry feels the rollercoaster of domination judder to a stop and looks on, bewildered; _What the fuck are we doing?_ The sight of his juice being eagerly lapped up by the young boy is disturbingly powerful in ways he couldn't explain, but at the same time he feels a sharp twist of disgust at himself for what he's just done. Denial and aggression interlocked in his simple, puzzled mind, and he absent-mindedly clenched a fist. _Punishment, isn't it? Teaching him a lesson... Yeah?_

"Ready for some more?" Jack slowly nodded, embarrassed, savoring the taste in his mouth and spunked to the core. He desperately doesn't want to admit it, but the younger officer's come was just as fuckin tasty as his dad's, and this terrible fact feeds directly into his ongoing confusion and humiliation... _They're turnin you into a fuckin homo, Jack. Gonna be cravin a load from every fuckin prick in the building if this carries on…_ Another nightmarish flash of what he'd been promised and his mind recoils from it. He feels his head being dragged once more toward the fat stubby tool.

"Or perhaps you wanna get fucked, Kenton? Screwed by a screw, huh?" The bullying officer laughs and Jack panics inside. _No no no. THAT'S FOR MY DAD... Not you, Officer Fuckwad. Think, think, think Jack. Distract him._ He looked up at the bulky figure.

"Yeah, bet your load don't taste as good as his anyway…" He imagines his tough-nut dad knocking the man down to the ground. _'Don't you fuckin mess with my son again!'_ Givin' him a good kicking. Adrenaline coursed.

More nasty laughter and two chunky hands jerked his head right back. Neck tendons stretched under smooth young skin. "You're forgetting something, Kenton…"

"Don't taste as good... Sir." Jack gives the word just enough emphasis to show what he thinks of it. The man stares at him and spits down on to his upturned face.

"You're a cheeky little cunt, aren't yer? Ain't he a cheeky little cunt, Harry?" He releases the boy, who gently twists his neck to undo the sudden strain it had endured.

"Yeah, fuckin is. Think he definitely deserves another mouthful for that." Harry is idly playing with his sticky, softening monster dick, the image of it penetrating the lad's mouth refusing to leave his mind, and the shame at how much he'd enjoyed it bringing him out into something of a cold sweat. 

_Forbidden knowledge, impossible to unlearn._

He certainly doesn't want to see the con getting fucked: that's a step too far. He wants to watch a repeat of what he'd just done. Relive the moment. Share the blame...

The man weighs up the possibilities. He wants the con to feel some pain, but the defiant taunt rankled. "If you thought his come was tasty, you know what that fuckin' makes you, don't yer Kenton?"

Jack stares again at the fat angry tool jutting out from the dark trousers and the hefty fuzzed nuts lurking behind. Vicious male sex about to ram him. _Fuckin homo._ His stomach lurches and darkness shoots behind his eyes. He knows alright, but shakes his head.

"Oh I think you do. You're a fuckin' come drinkin' queerboy, aren't ya?"

'Fuckin ain't, sir.'

Harry watches, guilt and pleasure dancing around his head. Straight boys don't like tasting pricks or come. Course they don't. Stands to reason. The boy is only saying what he has to, just like he must do with Sike...

The older officer doesn't see it that way at all and is tired of hearing the same old shit. He kicks Jack in the stomach; not too hard to cause serious injury, but hard enough to show he means business. He's had years of practice finding acceptable limits of punishment. Lacking much hair to grab, he stops Jack from doubling over by taking hold of one ear. He leans over.

"Tell me what you want, Kenton. Tell me what you _REALLY_ want. You don't have to fuckin pretend, it's just the three of us. No-one else is listening."

Jack's confused mind wants lots of things: he wants to be out of these fuckin handcuffs; wants the straight young officer to intervene and call it quits; wants the man to let go of his fuckin ear... Most of all he wants his dad to teach this fuckin idiot a lesson, but that clearly wasn't gonna happen anytime soon, if it could at all. His tensed up body and the recent workouts had meant the man's kick to his abdomen was less effective than it might otherwise have been, but it still fucking hurt. Ragged breaths merge with the buzzing light. The dark bulky figure looms overhead, ready to engulf him. He wants out.

"Sorry sir. You're right. I... Really...." The man tugged harder and Jack screwed his eyes up in defeat "...wanna swallow some more juice. S'fuckin tasty... " Simply saying it out loud makes him feel weak. The man lets go. Jack slowly opens his eyes again; the brutal officer's bulging weapon was once more taking aim.

"Yeah, take a good look at that, Kenton. I'm gonna give you just what you want... Fuckin' queerboy." The shiny head touched the young man's lips.

Jack felt an intense rage. _One day, asshole, one day... Just you wait._ He says nothing.

"Open up, faggot."

He does, and in it slides, stretching his jaw wide. The sharp salty tang coats his unwilling tongue, the thing leakin some serious precome. The officer quickly sets to work on him, a rough hand against the back of his head once more. Sharp insistent thrusts. Jack kept his eyes shut and his mouth moist and tight on it, wanting the ordeal to be over as soon as possible. This come wasn't so very tasty, that was for sure.

"Yeahhh. That's the fuckin way. Told you not to lie to me, Kenton. This is what happens to bad boys who lie to me." The officer winks at his colleague, who gives a half-hearted grin back. "Gonna fuckin pump your mouth full of hot juice."

Harry's still toying with his sticky semi-hard prick, unable to tear his gaze away from the awesome image of the lad getting facefucked again. _Shit. Look at it slammin in there…_ He's disturbed to find that now, when it's totally clear to him that the boy is straight, a twisted part of him is enjoying seeing the youngster succumbing to the older man's mature meat. He begins to remember in more detail the rape fantasy he'd once had which he'd spent months afterwards trying to suppress. The look of shock and panic as he remorselessly pushed his dick inside, hands pushing her down... Bad thoughts.

And yet the sight before him is feeding into that terrible inviting darkness once more and the spark of recognition speeds to his groin. _Fuck. This is where it could all happen for real. No one would ever know, and fuckers like this deserve everything they get anyhow... Prison should be about punishment._ He squeezes his long member some more and feels it begin to respond. _Oh man, here we go again._ His hand begins to make slow easy strokes, unable to stop the pleasure growing, eyes glazing over as his moral resistance slipped away...

"Yeahhh. Fuckin give it to im, man. He deserves it, don't he?" Harry spits copiously into his hand and coats his hot member, bringing it back to life. _Yeahhhh. Look at him taking it. Hot facefuckin action._

"Too fuckin right he does. You deserve this, don't yer Kenton?"

Jack gives a slow, tense nod. Harry feels his meat swell some more in his spit-slick hands, a metallic taste fills his mouth. No emotion now, only the lust to invade. _Hot fucking action... He's taking it like a girl. Like a bitch…_ He adds more spit to his palm, and lets the moisture run over his sensitive head, feeling the excitement in his bloodstream. His left hand lightly strokes around his large, shaved nutsack. _Yeahhhhh. There's another load in there somewhere._ His training officer noticed what he was doing

"Hey. You got some stamina there! Go for it!"

The boy opens his eyes and glances sideways to see, even as his mouth continued to be pounded and hairy hands kept his head roughly in place. No way. Would this never end? You're the fuckin straight one, dude... Isn't once enough? But the sight of the man's renewed arousal sent a rush of furious anticipation to his dick yet again. He remembered the sweet, sweet taste on his tongue... _So hot!_

"Here, Harry. I got an idea. What say we shove him over the desk and take him each end? That'll teach him some fuckin respect." The older officer is keen to watch his junior colleague's lengthy dick in action again, even as his own meat continues to get serviced.

Harry, stroking himself to full hardness, is caught up in the heat and the rush of the moment, guilty conscience now firmly pushed aside and ignored. What seemed impossible not long before is now, suddenly, a real hot and sexy proposition. _Yeah. Why not? Why the fuck not? Let's fuckin take it to the next level…_ His rape fantasy was reshaping itself to this previously unimaginable scenario and taking on new life. He feels the power in his muscles; testosterone and adrenaline urging him to commit the vicious act. _Show him what you're fuckin made of…_

"Yeahhhhhhh. Why not? Sounds like a fucking plan." He grins dumbly at his training officer's suggestion. The man slowly nods back at him, a serious expression of approval on his mean, ugly features. "You're gonna do well here, Harry. You're gonna fit right in."

 _Fuck._ Jack groans down below at this sudden turn of events, knowing there is nothing he could do. He is going to get ploughed twice today now at least... _It's gonna fuckin BURN. It's gonna be fuckin torture... But... But... Just think of that long sexy shaft sliding in there, Jack, goin' real deep... Fit, muscled straight man doin' you, just like your dad will later. Both of 'em fuckin your tight hole like a dirty bitch... Two awesome motherfucking dicks in one day... You can handle 'em._ Fear and lust battle deep within the boy's confused mind and his straight instincts shouted _abuse_. No use.

The older officer removes his meat. "You heard, Kenton. Up you get."

Jack climbs unsteadily to his feet. He has to salvage some pride...

"Please... I can't…" The boy shakes his head to emphasize the point.

"Can't what, Kenton?" The man stares daggers at close range, fingering his tool. "Can't take a prick up your backside?" A sneer. "You'll learn. Bad boys like you usually do. If you make a fuss you'll be gettin a fuckin' truncheon up there, believe me."

Jack does. He glances nervously at the fit straight officer's long slicked-up weapon, knowing his fate is sealed. He knows it's gonna fuckin hurt, and knows too that this is all his own fault. He tries to think of how he'd coped with his dad's dick for the first time... Can't jerk himself off because his hands are still cuffed... He remembers just how much he'd wanted it with his dad. That had certainly helped him cope somehow, though he doesn't understand why.

"Over the desk with you." His tormentor pushes him roughly toward the desk and he stumbles forward slightly. He leans forward. He feels his jeans being undone and pulled roughly down, cool air on his exposed skin.

"There you go, Harry. He's all yours. Give it plenty of spit." The older officer walks around the desk to observe the action and carry on getting his dick seen to. This has all gone even better than he'd hoped. The boy's head is nicely positioned to continue the interrupted task. He jerks it upwards slightly and rudely shoves his bulging cock back in the boy's waiting mouth, leering sadistically across the desk at his junior colleague.

"That'll shut him up."

Harry grins back at him then stares down at the con's prone body with evil intent, the helpless handcuffed wrists above the smooth pale rump ready for the taking. He feverishly strokes his firm tube of fuckmeat, admiring the length of it as it proudly jutted out from his black uniform. _Time to do some fucking damage._ He spits twice into a cupped palm and makes it slicker still. _This is gonna be fuckin tight._ He spits plenty more onto the top of the con's buttocks and lets the head of his dick take the juice downwards, rubbing through the boy's soft hairy crack to seek out the opening he was going to invade.

Jack, his mouth being steadily pounded by the bullying officer's stiff prick, feels the moist male sex nudging at his tender hole. _Oh fuck. It's really gonna happen, Fucking straight man's gonna do ya…_ Horny anticipation sends his young mind into overdrive. He remembers the wedding ring on the man's hand... _Yeah dude, fuck me like you fuck your wife. Fuck yeahhh._ Harry applies more spit to his meat and bends his knees slightly to get a better angle. The slick head nudges again. _Yeah, do me with that sexy motherfuckin' dick_ , thinks Jack. _Do me like a bitch…_ Suddenly, the hard fleshy weapon begins to work its way inside, nudging past the boy's tight ring of muscle. 

Threat into reality. 

Penetration. 

Jack can't help but give a muffled shout.

"NNNNgggghhhh.... Nnnnnnnnnnnngh."

"Told yer you'd just have to learn, Kenton…" The man eagerly watched Harry's substantial manhood going to work. _Guess what, Sike? We spit-roasted your boy, and he fuckin' loved it... Hehehe._ The spit-lubed member nudges in further still, then back a little, then in again a little further; a slow rhythm being established, deep grunts of pleasure from its owner above.

Jack's crazed thoughts fractured and scattered. _Aaaggghhh... Shit... Gettin' fucked... Again... Fuckin... Tight... Yeah, man... I'm straight... Fuckin... Straight... Agggh... Shouldn't... Want this... Horny... Fuckin... Fit bloke... Fit... Straight... Bloke... Fuckin me... Aaghhhh... Yeahhh.... Mate... That's it... Screw me... Don't... Tell... My dad.._

Harry revels in the sensation. So hot and tight. This was gonna be a real nice fuck. He was in total control here.

Mouth full, the boy groans as the firm meat works deeper into his perfect arse. He's amazed to discover that it doesn't hurt quite as much as he'd thought it would to start with, though it's still pretty fuckin' intense and there is definite friction. _Feel it goin' up there... Incredible... Motherfuckin' straight meat doin' me... Just like my dad's will tonight…_ The reminder of that sends sparks of guilty anticipation around his confused skull. _Dad must NEVER find out about this…_

Weird sensations spread throughout his body as it's penetrated more fully by the sexy smooth shaft, manly pleasure packed into his tight tender hole. His own meat jerks painfully against the front of the desk, as trapped as he was. The pace gradually quickened. Jack moans as the friction increased, his mouth stuffed full of dick.

The older officer watches the sexy scene unfold with beautiful precision; the little cunt finally getting what was coming to him. The taste of revenge is sweet. He smiles to himself at his modest victory and gazes at the incredible sight before him, the boy's head gripped between his two meaty-knuckled hands. _Fuckin' spit roastin him. Yeaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh._

Harry, square-jaw set tight, is concentrating completely on what he's doing, hands now gripping the con's slim waist. He stares enthralled at his lengthy prick as it inflicts its degrading punishment on the young captive, almost as if it belongs to someone else. The whole thing is completely unreal. He pulls out a bit to let some more drool drop from his mouth to his tool, slid it back in and resumed his smooth action. _Mmmmmm. Just look at that. Bad boy gettin drilled like a bitch._ He nods debased approval to himself, a half-sneer on his face. _You're actually gettin fuckin paid for doin' this, Harry. What a fuckin joke._ The sneer becomes an evil grin and he begins to apply even more force and depth to his strokes, prompting another heartfelt moan from Jack. On impulse, he whacks the boy's behind hard with the palm of his hand.

"Yeahhhhhh... Fucking like that, do you? Like havin my fuckin prick up in there, huh?" Harry hears the new harsh edge to his own voice. He's becoming someone else; it isn't just acting. The uniform is getting under his skin. He tenses with muscular aggression, wanting a response. "FUCKING ANSWER ME!!"

The burly officer removes his tool briefly to give Jack a chance to reply. The boy's body jolts back and forth on the hard desk as his rear end begins to be seriously punished by the junior officer's slick angry manhood. The forceful smack of the man's hand came as a shock, and his young frame is racked with tension. He struggles to reply.

"Uuughhhh. Please... Don't...."

"Don't fuckin what?"

"Ughhh. Uuuugghhh. Stop."

Harry sneered again. "Don't you fucking worry. I'm not gonna.." He whacks the boy's stinging rear once more. Jack gasps in pain.

His colleague grins at him and cuts the boy's gasp short by plugging his mouth full of fat juicy meat again.

"Bet you never thought you'd be gettin this little reward after the football today, huh Kenton?" A muffled moan. "Like I said, I'm sure we can introduce you to some pussy-starved fellas in the weeks to come. You'll go down a lot." He laughs, unkindly, and Harry laughs along, not knowing quite how realistic the prospect was, but stupidly keen now to see such humiliation happen.

"Yeahhh. That'll be some fuckin show... Gangbanged like a bitch…" says Harry.

Jack feels the frictional fire in his hole building and building as the man's thrusts become more violent, but he can do nothing to stop it. He'd coped well so far, but his limit is fast approaching. If only he could touch his aching dick... Desperate, he closes his eyes and thinks about how his dark twisted fantasy of getting fucked by his tough-nut dad had become reality, the card game, the vodka, the porn mag, the amazing realization it was really gonna happen, the nervous wait in the dark that seemed to take forever, going down on his knees in the dim red glow to suck his dad's king-size meat, feeling that juicy straight tackle slowly getting rock-hard n ready for action, then the never-to-be-forgotten sight of his muscled father figure looming over him on the bed and that thick mature shaft being remorselessly driven inside Jack for the very first time. The most amazing fucking night of his whole life... _Gonna show your dad you can take it?_ Pleasure receptors in his head kicked in, attempting to transform the pain... _You're doin real good, Son._

The fat stubby dick bashes away at his numb lips from the dark uniform slacks, and his neck muscles ache from being held in an unnatural position to receive it. Sharp twinges from his bruised shoulder. He pictures his dad standing there in the cell: his mighty tank of a torso, hefty tattooed arms, thick scarred neck and shaved head; the pure masculinity of him. Jack's protection. 

A surge of intense longing filled him: the longing to be held; the press of fuzzed, firm muscle against his smooth skin. Pure impossible desire ricochets from head to toe, even as the two officers had their brutal way with him.

Heavy breathing increasing, deep grunts and groans, the rhythmic slosh of unrelenting male penetration and fierce concentration, the background buzz of the light... Stillness reigned otherwise in the depths of the prison, broken only by a door slamming somewhere and distant voices laughing about something.

"Hmmmhhh. You want another mouthful o juice, Kenton?" Jack could hear the desire to unload lurking in the man's voice. He nodded, reluctantly. Time's up. "Yeah. Course you fuckin' do. Two loads are always better than one, huh?"

Harry watches his colleague with narrow-eyed fascination, eager to see the con forced to swallow more spunk. His slick prick felt so fuckin good inflicting its damage and that hole was just so hot and inviting, silkeninsides squeezing perfectly while letting him slide in and out with considerable force. He's starting to get close again himself. _This is what tough justice really looks like... Tough male justice._

"Go on, man. Fucking give it to him! Fill his mouth up with it!"

The bent officer's eyes narrowed with vicious desire as he rammed himself in with increasing fury. His balls ached from the long wait. _Not much longer now... Oh yeahhh. Fuck yeahhhh._ His body teetered on the edge of the pleasure rush.

"Fuck. Fuck. It's fuckin comin. You're gonna fuckin taste it any minute now, Kenton. Nnnnghhhh." His breaths came faster and faster.

"Oh yeahhhh. That's the fuckin way... Feed it to him!" Harry's eyes glinted, eager to see the humiliation.

Jack numbly awaits his fate. He feels the two shafts pounding into him, the fat stubby one about to shoot it's load in his mouth, the longer shaft doing his hot hole with terrible intensity, pushing his body repeatedly into the sharp edge of the desk. His muffled moans are getting louder and more frequent. _Gettin' done by a real, straight man, ain'tcha? He's doin yer like a bitch... Hurts, dunnit?... Yeahhhh, fuckin does... Screwed by a screw... The enemy…_

An image of Sike filled the lad's skull with sparks of guilt... 

_You're the real fuckin thing, Dad... Still fuckin' need you…_

"NNNNNNNGHHHHHHHHH!"

The chunky officer groaned his climax and hot salty nutjuice splattered over Jack's tired tongue. _Oh fuck. He's shootin it. Shit._ Jack gagged momentarily, and then succumbed to the inevitable and lapped around the fat head of the gushing tool, wanting to swallow it all down as quickly as possible. The strong taste of fresh cum filled his pounded skull. _Fuck._ How many more men were going to do this to him?

Harry saw the con gag and stared transfixed. Wow. "Yeah, man. Fuckin feed it to him."

The boy's fevered imagination again pictures them all crowding around: rugged stocky men, all muscles and fists, working their lazy, bored pricks into action, keen to relieve the tedium of prison life with an easy blow-job and some ritual humiliation with their straight friends, Jack the substitute bitch for them to unload into. His fearful and curious mind recoils at the thought of the consequences: there would be no way back for his reputation, and his dad would surely kill him. _Help me, Dad…_ Salty come slides down his throat; firm hands grip his head.

"Nice one, man. Real fuckin nice…" Harry is gunning for it now, keen to make the finish line for the second time. He feels like he can, even though he isn't used to shooting twice in quick succession. His smooth dick slides rapidly in and out. _Mmmmmm yeahhhh. We're fuckin teachin you a lesson. Takin it like a fuckin bitch aren'tcha?_

The burly officer stared down in satisfaction. "Yer like that Kenton?" A small desperate nod. "Good. Think you might show us a bit more respect in future?" Another small nod. "About fuckin time." The fat dick lays heavy in the boy's mouth, the last of the gunk oozing out. The man has a further little twist in mind...

Despite the chill in the room, Harry was sweating under his uniform as he upped the ante even further and punished the lad's tender hole with terrible force, his darkest fantasy remoulded into something frighteningly horny and real. _Yeahhhhhh. Don't fucking mess with us or you'll get what you fucking deserve._ His colleague enviously watched his trainee's lengthy member going for glory.

'Hey, Kenton. You enjoyin' what Harry's givin' ya?" Through the haze of pain, defiance shoots through the lad's skull. 

_Don't give em the satisfaction, Jack._

He shakes his head. 

"No? You ungrateful little cunt. See that Harry?"

"Yeah. Fuckin did. Ya think he's lying again?" The young officer again smacks the con's rear with the palm of his hand. _Cheeky little fucker._

"Must be. Kenton?" A muffled moan. "Tell me the truth or I'll piss right down yer throat. Are you enjoyin' what Harry's givin yer?"

Jack mind goes numb. The burly officer's fat dick lays threateningly across his tongue. _You fuckin what?_ As had happened that very morning, something in his mind suddenly snaps, and he tries vainly to free himself. Despite a few seconds of surprise, with his hands cuffed behind his back and the firm grip of the two older men already holding him in place, it is a futile, and painful, effort. His shoulder throbs and the fat dick stays exactly where it is. His head is swiped firmly by a meaty hand.

"Fuckin' cut it out, Kenton. You'll only make it worse for yourself."

The boy freezes. The long smooth prick he'd viewed with such mouth-watering admiration at first continues to thump ferociously into his sore behind, straight male domination filling him with fire and fearsome force. The other prick sits there in his spunk-drenched mouth. He moans in pain and humiliation. _It's your own fault, Jack…_ The buzz of the light once again filled the small room.

"Now. I think you oughta be fuckin grateful when a hard straight fucker like Harry gives you the benefit of his... er... expertise. Don't you?" A small nod. "So. I'll ask again. Are you enjoyin' what Harry's givin' ya?"

"Nnghh-hnnngh." Another nod to make the meaning clear.

"Nnghh-hnnngh, what?"

"...Hrrrghh."

Harry watches with glazed eyes, waves of impending ecstasy spreading out from his groin. _Yeahhhhh. If Phil says I'm a hard straight fucker, then I know I must've made the grade! Job secure! Result!_ A sly grin of satisfaction, square-jaw tight, he gripped the pale skin beneath harder; felt the edge surge closer, prick swelling in anticipation, gun loaded and ready to fire. _Fuck yeahh._ His grunts became more insistent.

His companion senses the time is nigh. Perfect fuckin' timing. "That's more like it." A pause. "But in future Kenton, give me the right answer first time, hmmm? Drink up."

Jack stares disbelievingly up from the belt over the fearsome bulk of his tormentor's uniform. _No. No. Please…_ But it's no use. He feels the warm pungent liquid begin to invade his mouth, a gushing stream of steamy piss. _Aaaaaaaghhhhhh!!_ Hulking hands keep his jaw clamped shut on the fat semi-hard tool as it remorselessly flooded his mouth. Total fucking nightmare. He screwed his eyes up in disgust.

"Fuckin drink it up, Kenton. I'm warnin' ya!"

Jack, desperate and powerless to resist, does as he's told; he swallows and swallows, choking as he does so. Needles of fire went down his throat to his stomach. It quickly mingles with, and then overpowers, the salty taste of the man's come. That had almost tasted good by comparison. _Fuck. I'll make you fuckin regret this, you sick cunt, you just wait n see. You just fuckin wait n see._

Harry, his delirious mind now fully initiated into this netherworld of rough male domination, sees the young boy's humiliation deepen and feels himself tip over the edge. _Drinkin piss and come and getting fucked like a bitch... That'll fucking teach you, won't it?_ He violently plunges his eager meat deep, ready to shoot, shaved nuts tight up to the lad's crack. Power and control combined in his taut body. He was a hard straight fucker, alright. He gripped harder.

"Oh maaan. Fuck yeeahhh." 

Another few deep thrusts. 

_Right._

_In._

_There._

"FUUUUUUCKIIIINNNN HELLLLL…"

His deep exclamation of relief continues as he begins to pump the juice out once again, straight up the boy's silky hole. _Fuckin unbelievable!!_ He looks upwards with a shiver of sheer ecstasy, eyes closed, breath held.

Jack heard the man's loud exclamation and felt the final push against his raw backside. _Here it fuckin well comes..._ One straight guy forcing his seed into another, the grim reality of prison. _Fuuuuuck._ The knowledge of what's happening makes him groan in pained arousal, knowing that he'd actively brought about the fit married officer's involvement, knowing that he now had another juicy straight prick to think about, knowing that the bullying officer was almost certainly going to arrange something much worse for him than all this, and knowing that his dad was gonna fuck his sore hole again tonight even while he had to be on his best behaviour... _Fuck._ It was all too much. Too much. The dark uniform filled his unsteady vision. Time hung waiting.

The rush of seed and ecstasy gradually subsides. Opening his eyes again, the strip light burns it's line into Harry's vision, and he looks back down to his uniformed colleague, who nods at him knowingly and winks. Harry gives an open mouthed smile in response. A tiny seed of uncertainty is already lurking somewhere in a corner of his mind, but the passionate brutality they'd just unleashed was too good to deny. 

Or forget.

He has to wonder if it's the wild rush of power and forbidden desire or if it's the boy himself. 

_Kenton is something special…_ , he thinks as he stares briefly at the humiliated and used boy below him. He pushes this admiration for his thoroughly debased conquest aside and takes in the reality of his first power fuck.

"Think we did a good job there?"

"Yeah. Fuckin good job. All in a day's work, innit?" The older man grins at his trainee. Harry nods. That was just what he needed to hear. 

_Nothing queer about it._

"You gonna say thank you to Harry, Kenton?" The burly officer removes his sated prick from the boy's piss-soaked mouth and lets it hang there in front of his cute, strained face.

A pause. Gritted teeth and murderous intentions. "Thank you, Harry…"

"What else?"

"...Sir."

_Sorry dad. Really sorry…_

"That's right. Don't fuckin' forget it."

The light buzzes ever on. Harry stares blankly down at his hard weapon as he pulls it slowly from the boy's battered behind, the red marks of his violence clearly visible on pale skin, a few noticeable streaks of blood on his shaft. He wipes it clean with a squeezing stroke of his hand, used the boy's t-shirt as a towel, tucks his tackle away and zips himself up. 

_All in a day's work, right?_

_Yeah._

  


  


  
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